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Designed for 

Young People of 

Containing selections in 
both prose and poetry 

together with sosne short 
dialogues and tableaux 
Compiled, by 


JKutth** of 

The Pen/i 

Publishing Company 


filtered according" to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, "by 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. 

_ - 


Ittle volume is designed for children betweea 
-L the ages of five and fifteen years. 

The need, as well as the numerous inquiries for a 
work of this kind, has led to the preparation of the 
present compilation, 

Our resources for collecting that which is fresh, 
varied, and vigorous are many ; and, while engaged in 
the task of arranging, three things were kept promi 
nently in view: first, that the selections should neither 
be long nor tedious; second, that there should be an 
abundant variety; and, third, that the tone or character 
should be healthful. Hence, there are short pieces both 
of poetry and prose, some treating of plant and animal 
life, some of childhood pleasures, some brimming with 
innocent fun, some filled with patriotic fervor, some 
with bits of philosophy, and others designed to inspire 
the soul with motives toward truth, honor, right, and 


A. few dialogues and acting tableaux are appended, 
and thus tli rough its adaptability it is believed that the 
will meet the wants of children for the merry 
makings in the home circle, for church anniversaries, 
for school exhibitions. Such then is the style and 
character of this collection of Beadings and Eecitations 
which we offer to you, the Young Folks of our Beloved 
I^and, trusting you may find in it much to gratify and 
please, and, above all, that which will lead your minda 
und hearts to thoughts Beautiful, Pure, and Good* 

fkihdelpkia, January 1st, 1884. 


iee8fml4fe JemuiA* . . . . 1 

Do 9 

How Cyrus Laid the Cable . . 10 

Little by Little 11 

What the Winds Bring JSdaanmd daremc* S*doum 12 

TheTwoBoads 12 

The Boy s Complaint 13 

Never Say Tail 14 

Farewell of the Birds M.K.P. 1ft 

Boys "Wanted 17 

Bo Bight 17 

Go&l Deeds Dr. 2*. Cbo&ner* ..... 18 

The Two Commands 18 

A Christmas EYO Adventure Jf . if. 19 

The Way to Bo It . Mary Jfopes Dodge .... 21 

Speak ths Truth . . 22 

Battle Bonny MalTem HiE Brrf JBarte ........ 23 

A CMld g Wisdom. 25 

Tbe Nobility of Labor Me*). OrmKeDewe^. ... 26 

Lazy Daisy 27 

The Moon and the Child George Jacqm 28 

The Sparkling Bowl John Pi&rymt 29 

Sweet Peas . Lilian Parson 30 

The King and the Child Eugene J. So 31 

Do TOE Know How Many Stars? 33 

The Fathers of the BepttbEc ... - Everett . 34 

A Horse s Petition to His DriTer 34 

Antony on the Death of Caesar Shakespeare ... ... 35 

Sour Grapes 35 

BeinEarnest . Bnlwer 36 

Suppose PhcebeCanf 37 

The SqnirreFs Lesson 38 

Homesick 39 

War Inevitable Patrick Smry 41 

That Calf Phoebe Gary ....... 42 

Johnny the Stout 44 

What the Minutes Say 45 

The Little Boy s Lament 4$ 

Mature SagKMHer 4T 

The Boy and the Frog 47 

Homeopathic Soup * 



LiBMtoKate ...... ...... . ......... ....... BO 

Sra&d Scheme of lmlgm&m ........... ........... 82 

Brave aad True ..... .......... Henry Jkwtio ...... 53 

this G&bler ................ . ............. M 

Whai fthe Matter? .............. H.K.P. ......... 65 

Peaceable Secession .............. IFeZwter ......... 56 

Baiy s Soliloqny ............................ 57 

A Tribute to Water .......... .... J0& B. Ctapfc ...... 58 

Sin . ........ ........... . Baxter. ... ...... 60 

February Tweaty-woaid .......... .JoyABuon ....... 61 

Hit Stolen CwtanJ ... ........................ 62 

Semelxidy a Mother ....... . ...... JfocmtZZon ........ 63 

Willie s Brecb ...... . ....... EUa G. Sdklyury ..... 64 

Thomas Carfyte ..... 65 

.....*.... Maria Lacey ....... 66 

BeiagaBoy. ................ Charles Dudley Warner . . 7 

We Mm* All Scratch ...... . ........ . .......... 69 

Blowing Bnie .... ........... E. 0. F. Starfay .... 70 

When the Frasf is on the Finikin ................... 72 

America s Obligations to England ....... Colonel J9orre ...... 73 

. ....................... 74 

Digmlij In Lator ............... Newmcai JTaU ...... 75 

Where Bid You Come From, Baby? ...... George MacdonaM .... 76 

A Little Buy s Trimbles ............ Carlotta, Perry ...... 77 

from a Battle-field ........... 8. C.Stone ........ 79 

TkreeGood Boctors . ......... . . . & W. Dt^ffield, D.D. . , . . 8 

On Ctonqnering America ..... ...... Lord Cha&am ...... 82 

The lodiaa BT ....... . ...... Francos S. Smi& ..... 83 

Johnny s Pocket ........ ... ............... . . 84 

Six o clock P. M .......................... . . 85 

ASoUumFac* ............................. 86 

The Little Light ............................ 87 

Tfee Krf and the Baby ........ ... . Alfred Tennyson ..... 88 

The Return from Battle . . ...... .... .......... .. 89 

The American Mag ..... ...... ...<. P. Putnam ...... 90 

LoBtTomuay ..... ........... . Mrs. JitZm M. Dona ... 91 

The FooHsh Harebell ..... ........ George Macdonald .... 93 

Only a Baby Small . ............. Matthias Ban- ...... 94 

BrateiOiithBBeatlicrfCa^Etr ......... Shakespeare ....... 95 


Three Little Mushrooms ......... . .............. 

Eea! Elocution .... ......... 1 ........ ....... 97 

Knowing the Circomstaiices ...................... 101 

4 Sang of the States .... ...... . . ....... . ...... 103 



POETS may be bora, but success is made ; therefore K 
JL me beg of you, in the outset of your career, to 
dismiss from your mincb all ideas of succeeding by luck. 

There is no more common thought among young peo 
ple than that foolish one that by and by something will 
turn up by which they will suddenly achieve fame or 
fortune. Luck is an ignis fatuus. You may follow it 
to ruio, but not to success. The great Napoleon, who 
believed in his destiny, followed it until he saw his star 
go down in blackest night, when the Old Guard perished 
around him, and Waterloo was lost. A pound of plucfe 
is worth a ton of luck. 

Young men talk of trusting to the spur of the occa^ 
sion. That trust is vain. Occasion cannot make spurs. 
If you expect to wear s purs, you must win them. If yon 
wish to use them, you must buckle them to your own 
heels before you go Into the fight. Any success you may 
achieve is not worth the having unless you fight for it. 
Whatever you win in life you must conquer by your own 
efforts, and then it is yours a part of yourself. 

Again: in order to have any success in life, or any 
worthy success, you must resolve to carry into your work 
a fullness of knowledge not merely a sufficiency, but 
more than a sufficiency. Be fit for more than the thing 
you are now doing. Let every one know that you have 
a reserve in yourself ; that you have more power than 
you are now using. If you are not too large for the place 
you occupy, you are too small for it. How full our coon? 



try is of bright examples, nofc only of those who occupy 
proud eminence in public life, but in every place 
you may find men going on with steady nerve, attract 
ing the attention of their fellow-citizens, and carving out 
for themselves names and fortunes from small and hum- 
He beginnings and in the face of formidable obstacles. 
Let not poverty stand as an obstacle in your way. Pov 
erty is uncomfortable, as I can testify ; but nine times 
out of ten the best thing that can. happen to a young man 
is to be tossed overboard, and compelled to sink or swim 
for himself. In all my acquaintance, I have never known 
one to be drowned who was worth the saving. This 
would not be wholly true in any country but one of 
political equality like ours. 

The reason is this : In the aristocracies of the Old 
World, wealth and society are built up like the strata of 
rock which compose the crust of the earth. If a boy be 
bom in the lowest stratum of life, it is almost impossible 
for him to rise through this hard crust into the higher 
ranks; but in this country it is not so. The strata of 
our society resemble rather the ocean, where every drop, 
even the lowest, is free to mingle with all others, and may 
shine at last on the crest of the highest wave. This is 
the glory of our country, and you need not fear that there 
are any obstacles which will prove too great for any 
brave heart 

In giving you being, God locked up in your nature 
certain forces and capabilities. What will you do with 
them? Look at the mechanism of a clock. Take off 
the pendulum and ratchet, and the wheels go rattling 
down and all its force is expended in a moment ; but 
properly balanced and regulated, it will go on, letting out 
its force tick by tick, measuring hours and days, and 


doing faithfully the service for "which It I 

Implore you to cherish and guard and use well the forces 

that God has given to you. You may let them run clown 
in a year 3 if you will. Take off the strong curb of dis 
cipline and morality, and you will be an old man before 
your twenties are passed. Preserve these forces. Bo not 
burn them out with brandy, or waste them in idleness 
and crime. Do Dot destroy them. Do not use them un 
worthily. Save and protect them, that they may save for 
you fortune and fame. Honestly resolve to do this, and 
you will be an honor to yourself and to your country. 



TF the world seems cold to you, 
J- Kindle fires to warm it ! 
Let their comfort hide from yon 
Winters that deform it. 

Hearts as frozen as your own 

To that radiance gather ; 
You will soon forget to moan, 

** Ah ! the cheerless weather/* 

If the world s a vale of tears, 
Smile till rainbows span it; 

Breathe the love, that life endears 
Clear from clouds to fan it. 

Of our gladness lend a gleam 

Unto souls that shiver; 
Show them how dark sorrow s stream 

jjlends with hope s bright river I 



COME* listen to my song y it is no silly fable, 
J Tis all about the mighty cord they call the Atlan 
tic Cable, 

Bold Cyrus Field, said he, " I have a pretty notion 
That I could run a telegraph across the Atlantic Ocean." 

And all the people laughed and said they d like to see 

him do it ; 
He might get " half seas over/ but never would go 

through it. 

To carry out his foolish plan he never would be able ; 

He might as well go hang himself with his Atlantic 


But Cyras was a valiant man, a fellow of decision, 
And heeded not their careless words, their laughter and 


Twice did Ms bravest efforts fail, yet his mind was stable ; 
He wasn t the man to break his heart because he broke 

his cable. 

" Once more, my gallant boys/ said he ; " three times/ 

you know the fable. 
"Ill make it thirty/ muttered he, but what 111 lay 

the cable." 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! again hurrah ! what means this great 

commotion ? 
gurrah! hurrah! The cable s laid sicrosf the Atlantic 




Loud ring the bells, for through ten thousand 

leagues of water. 

Old Mother England s benison salutes her eldest daugh 

(Fer all the land the tidings spread, and soon in every 

They ll tear about the cable with profoundest admira 

Long live the gallant souls who helped our noble Cyms ; 
And may their courage, faith, and zeal, with emulation 
fire us. 

And may we honor, evermore, the manly, bold and stable, 
And tell our sons, to make them brave, how Cyrus laid 
the Cable. 


ONE step and then another, and the longest walk is 
One stitch and then another, and the widest rent is 

mended ; 

One brick upon another, and the highest wall is made ; 
One flake upon another, and the deepest snow IB laid. 

Then do not frown nor murmur at the work you have to 


Or say that such a mighty task you never can get through ; 
But just endeavor, day "by day, another point to gain, 
And soon the mountain that you feared will prove to b 

a plain. 



Y1THICH is the wind that brings the cold ? 

V The north.- wind, Freddy, and all the snot* 
And the stieep will scamper into the fold, 
When the north "begins to Wow. 

Which is the wind that brings the heat ? 

The south-wind , Katy ; and corn will grow, 
And peaches redden for you to eat, 
When the south begins to blow. 

Which is the wind that brings the rain ? 

The east-wind, Arty ; and farmers know 
That cows come shivering up the lane 

When the east begins to blow. 

Which is the wind that brings the flowers ? 

The west- wind, Bessy ; and soft and low, 
The birdies sing in the summer honrs 

When the west begins to blow. 



TfTHERE two ways meet the children stand, 

"A fair, broad road on either hand ; 

One leads to Right, and one to Wrong ; 
So runs the song. 

Which will you choose, each lass and lad ? 
The right or left, the good or bad ? 
One leads to Right, and one to Wrong ; 
So runs the song. 



! never mind, they re only boys ;" 

Tig thus the people say, 
And they hustle us and jostle us. 
And drive us out the way. 

They never give us half our rights : 

I know that this is so ; 
Ain t I a boy ? aod can t I see 

The way that these things go ? 

The little girls are petted all, 

Called u honey," dear," and u sweet," 
But boys are cuffed at home and school, 
And knocked about the street. 

My sister lias her rags and dolls 

Strewn all about the floor, 
While old dog Growler dares not put 

Bus nose inside the door. 

And if I go upon the porch 

In hopes to have a play, 
Borne one calls out, a Hollo, young chap, 

Take that noisy dog away P 

My hoop is used to build a fire, 

My ball is thrown aside ; 
And mother let the baby have 

My top, because it cried. 

If company should come at night, 

The boys can t sit up late ; 
And if they come to dinner, then 

Hie boys, of course, must "wait 


If anytMog Is raw or burned 

It falls to us, no doubt ; 
And if the cake or pudding s shorty 

We have to go without. 

If there are fireworks, we can t get 

A place to see at all ; 
And when the soldiers come along 
We re crowded to the wail. 

Whoever wants an errand done, 

We always have to scud ; 
Whoever wants the sidewalk, we 

Are crowded in the mud. 

Tis hurry-scurry, here and there, 

Without a moment s rest, 
And we scarcely get a * Thank you./* if 

We do our very best. 

But never mind, boys we will be 
The grown men by and by ; 

Then I suppose twill be our turn 
To snub the smaller boy. 


IK" life s rosy morning, 
In manhood s pride, 
Let this be your motto, 

Your footsteps to guide: 
In storms and in sunshine, 

Whatever assail, 
We ll onward and conquer, 
And never say fail. 



TO Jennie at play in the garden, 
To Bessie and Maud on the till, 
To all the children that frolic 

So gay! v "by brooklet and rill 
"We are coming to-day. 

But, hush ! Never tell ! 
We are coming, I say. 
To bid you farewell ! 

You welcomed us early in spring, 

With laughter and shoutings so sweet ; 
To your childhood our music we bring, 
You scatter your crumbs at our feet. 
You. love us, we know. 
"Sow listen, tis true : 
We re sorry to sing 
This farewell to you. 

We ve led you full many a race 

O er hillside and valley and dell ; 
We ve beckoned you on to the forest, 
And shown you where wild flowers dwell ; 
We ve twittered and sung 

New songs every day ; 
We E give a grand chorus 
E er flying away. 

Where berries are ripest and sweetest, 
Where grapes their rich perfume distill, 

We enticed you by flutter and music, 
Tour little school-baskets to fill. 


We showed you onr nest, 

In shadiest nook ; 
We trusted your honor 
To take but a look. 

But the berries are gone from the roadside, 
The flowers told the dew-drops no more ; 
The grapes from the vine have been gathered x 
And, children, our play-time Is o er. 
Good-bye, then > to Bessie, 

To Clara, and May, 
To all who are kind 

To the birds at their play. 

We go where the days are all sunny, 
The breezes all softened and Hand, 
Where flowers and fruits never fail, 
In a far-away, dreamy Southland. 
But we love you all as well. 

Now list while we sing : 
We are sure to fly back 
At the coming of spring. 

Yes, In the spring time again 

Well build near your homes in the tree ; 
We hope that each laughing-eyed urchin 
And maiden will be there to see. 
But now we must go ; 

Oh ! pray, do not cry, 
As upward and onward % 
We warble, Good-bye^ 




BOYS of spirit, boys of wit, 
Boys of muscle, brain, and powr. 
Fit to cope with anything, 
These are wanted every tour, 

Not the weak and whining drones* 
Who all troubles magnify ; 

Not the watchword of "I can t/* 
But the nobler one, ** 111 try." 

Bo whate er you have to do 
With a true and earnest zeal 

Bend your sinews to the task, 

" Put your shoulder to the wheel.* 

Though your duty may be hard, 

Look not on it as an ill j 
If it be an honest task, 

Do it with an honest will* 

la the workshop, on the farm, 
At the desk, where er you be, 

From your foture efforts, boys, 
Comes a nation s destiny. 


T\0 what conscience says is righll 
J-/ Do what reason says is best; 
Do with all your mind and mights 
Do your duty and be blest 



of breathe, move, and live, pass 
J- off the sta^e of life, and are heard of BO more. 
Why f They do not partake of good In this world, and 
were by them ; none could point to them 

as fiie of their redemption ; not a line they wrote^ 

not a word they spate, could be recalled ; and so they 
perished; their light went out In darkness, and they were 
not remembered more than insects of yesterday. Will 
you thus live and die, O man Immortal? Live for some 
thing. Do good, and leave behind you a monument of 
virtue that the storm of time can never destroy. Write 
your name, In kindness, In love, and mercy, on the hearts 
of thousands you come in contact with year by year : yon 
will never be forgotten. No ! Your name, your deeds, 
wIH "be as legible on the hearts you leave behind you as 
the stars on the brow of evening. Good deeds will shly^e 
as the stars of heaven 



THIS is the first and great command j 
To love thy God above; 
And this the second: As thyself 
Thy neighbor thou shalt love. 
Who is thy neighbor ? He who wanti 

A help which thou canst give; 
And both the law and prophets say, 
This do ftud thou shalt Eve. 



OXGE on a time, in a queer little town 
On the shore of the Zuyder Zee, 
When all the good people were fast asleep, 
A.strange thing happened to me! 

Alone, the night Before Christmas, 

I sat by the glowing fire, 
Watching the flame as it rose and fell, 

While the sparks shot high and higher. 

Suddenly one of these sparks began 

To flicker and glimmer and wink 
Like a big bright eye, till I hardly knew 

What to do or to say or to think 

Quick as a flash, it changed to a face, 

And what in the world did I see 
But dear old Santa Glaus nodding his head, 

And waving his hand to me I 

" Oh! follow me, follow me!" soft he cried, 
And up through the chimney with him 

I mounted, not daring to utter a word 
Till we stood oa the chimney s rim. 

" Now tell me, I beg you, dear Santa Glaus, 

Where am I going with you?" 
He laughingly answered, " Why, don t you know? 

To travel the wide world through ! 

"From my crystal palace, far in the North, 

I have come since dark, and see 
These curious things for the little folk 

Who live on the Zuyder Zee*" 


Thai himself in his reindeer sledge. 

And drawing me down "by his side, 

He whistled, and off on the wings of the mud 
We flew for our midnight ride. 

But first, such comical presents lie left . 

For the little Dutch girls and boys, 
Onions and sausages, wooden-faced dolls, 

Cheeses and gingerbread toys ! 

Away we hurried far to the South, 
To the beautiful land of France ; 

And there we showered the loveliest gifts, 
Flaxen-haired dolls that could dance, 

Soldiers that marched at the word of command, 

Keeklaces, bracelets, and rings, 
Tiny gold watches, all studded with, gems, 
And hundreds of exquisite things. 

Crossing the Channel, we made a short call 

In Scotland and Ireland, too ; 
Left a warm greeting for England and Wales, 
Then over the ocean we flew 

Straight to America, where by myself 
Perched on a chimney high, 

I watched him scramble and bustle about 
Between the earth and the sky. 

Many a stocking he filled to the brim, 

And numberless Christmas trees 
Burst into bloom at his magical touch I 

The, all of a sudden, a breeze 


Caught us and bore us away to the South, 
And afterward blew us ** out West f 

And never till dawn peeped over the hills 
Did we stop for a moment s rest 

** Christmas is coming F* he whispered to me, 

You can see his smile in the sky, 
I wish Merry Christmas to all the world 1 

My work is over, good-bye !" 

Like a flash he was gone, and I was alone,* 

For all of this happened to me 
Once on a time, in a ^ueer little town 

On the shore of the Zuyder Zee ! M M* 


i tell you how I speak a piece: 
J- First, I make my "bow ; 
Then I bring my words out dear 
And plain as I know how. 

Next, I throw my hands up so ! * 

Then I lift my eyes : 
That s to let my hearers know 

Something doth surprise* 

Next, I grin and show my teeth, 

Nearly every one, 
Shake my shoulders, hold my sides: 

That s the sign of fan. 


Next, I start, and knit my brows, 

Hold my head erect ; 
Something s wrong, you see, and I 

Decidedly object* 

Then I wabble at my knees, 

Clutch at shadows near, 
Tremble well from top to toe: 

That s the sign of fear, 

Now I start, and with a leap ; 

Seize an airy dagger, 
" Wretch I" I cry : That s tragedy, 

Every soul to stagger. 

Then I let my voice grow faint, 

Gasp, and hold my breath, 
Tumble down and plunge about : 

That s a villain s death. 

Quickly then I come to life, 

Perfectly restored ; 
With a bow my speech is done. 
"Sow you ll please applaud. 



QPEAK the truth! 
O Speak it boldly, never fear, 
Speak it so that all may hear, 
In the end it shall appear 
Truth is best in age and youth, 
Speak the truth* 



[After the men were ordered to lie down, a. white rabbit, which hftd 

been hopping hither and thither over the field swept by grape and mm* 

retry, rjuk ref *ige among ike skirmishers, in the breast cf a corporal] 

J3UXXY, lying in the grass, 
i-/ Saw the shiny column pass, 

Saw the starry banner fly ? 

Saw the chargers fret and fume, 
Saw the flapping hat and plume 
Saw them with his moist and shy, 
Most unspeeulative eye. 
Thinking only, in the dew, 
That it was a fine review 
Till a flash, not ail of steel, 
Where the rolling caisson s wheel 
"Brought a rumble and a roar 
Boiling down that velvet floor, 
And like blows of autumn flail 
Sharply threshed the iron hail 

Bunny, thrilled by unknown fear% 
Raised his soft and pointed ears, 
Mumbled his prehensile lip, 
Quivered Ms pulsating hip, 
As the sharp, vindictive yell 
Rose above the screaming shell : 
Thought the world and all its men, 
All the charging squadrons meant 
All were rabbit hunters then, 
All to capture him intent. 
Bunny was not much to blame ; 
Wise? folk have thought the samt- 
Wiser folk, who think they spy 


Wildly here and there, 

Bunny sought the freer au* ? 
Till lie hopped below the hill, 
And saw lying* close and still, 
Men with muskets in their handc 
Never Bunny understands 
That hypocrisy of sleep, 
In the vigils gran they keep, 
As recumbent on that spot 
They elude the level shot 

One a grave and quiet man, 
Thinking of his wife and child 
Where the Androscoggin smiled- 
Felt the little rabbit creep, 
Nestling by his arm and side. 
Wakened from strategic sleep, 
To that soft appeal replied, 
Drew Mm to his blackened breast, 

Bat you have guessed the rest, 
Softly o y er that chosen pair 
Omnipresent Love and Care 

Drew a mightier Hand and Arm, 
Shielding them from every harm ; 
Eight and left the bullets waved, 

SSaves the savior for the saved. 

Who believes that equal grace 
God extends in every place, 
Little difference he scans 
Twist a rabbit s God ajid man s. 



TpWAS the hour of prayer, and the farmer stood, 
JL "With a thankful heart and a lowly mind, 

And prayed to the Author of every good, 

That the Father of all would be very Mud 
And "bless His creatures with raiment and food. 
That His "blessing each day might be renewed, 
That every want might find relief, 
And plenty for hunger, joy for grief, 
Be measured out by the merciful One, 
To all who suffered beneath the sun. 

The prayer concluded, the godly man 

Went forth in peace to inspect his farm ; 
And by his side, delighted ran, 

Blooming with every healthful charm, 
A little son, a sprightly boy, 
Whose home was love and whose life was joy. 
And they rambled over the golden fields, 
And the father said "The harvest yields 
A plentiful crop, my son, this year, 
My barns are too small for the grain, I fear." 

And they wandered on through row upon row, 

Of plumy sheaves, till at length the child, 
With earnest look and a brighter glow 

On his shining face, looked up and smiled, 
And said, " My father, do you not pray 
For the poor and needy every day, 
That the good God would give the hungry food f * 
" I do, my son." " Well, I think as you plead,** 
His eye waxed bright, for his soul shone through it, 
* That God, if He had your wheat, would do it/* 



T CALL upon whom I address to stand up for th@ 
L nobility of labor. It Is Heaven s great ordinance 
for human improvement. Let not that great ordinance 
be broken down. What do I say? It is broken down ; 
and it has been broken down for ages. Let it, then, be 
built up again ; here* if anywhere, on these shores of a 
new world of a new civilization. But how, I may be 
asked, is it broken down ? Do not men toil ? it may be 
said. They do, indeed, toil ; but they, too, generally do 
it because they must. Many submit to it as, in some 
sort, a degrading necessity ; and they desire nothing so 
much oa earth as escape from it. They fulfill the great 
law of labor in the letter, but break it in the spirit; 
fulfill it with the muscle, but break it with the mind. 
To some field of labor, mental or manual, every idler 
should fasten, as a chosen and coveted theatre of im~ 
pTOveraent. But so is he not impelled to do, under the 
teachings of our imperfect civilization. On the contrary, 
he sits down, folds his hands, and blesses himself in his 
idleness. This way of thinking is the heritage of the 
absurd and unjust feudal system, under which serfs 
labored, and gentlemen spent their lives in fighting and 
feasting. It is time that this opprobrium of toil were 
done away. Ashamed to toil, art thou ? Ashamed of 
thy dingy workshop and dusty labor-field; of thy hard 
hands, scarred with service more honorable than that 
of war; of thy soiled and weather-stained garments, on 
which Mother Nature has embroidered, midst sun and 
rain, midst fire and steam, her own heraldic honors ? 
Ashamed .of these tokens and titles, and envious of the 
flaunting robes of imbecile idleness and vanity? It is 


treason to Nature It is Impiety to Heaven It is "break* 
bag Heaven s great ordinance. TOIL, I repeat TOELg 
either of the brain, or of the heart, or of the hand, is 

me only true manhood, the only true nobility ! 



T ITTLE Daisy is so lazy 
JLJ This is what she does ; 
Just as soon as breakfast s eaten 
Off to bed she goes, 

Lazy Daisy ne er was seen 

Reading in a book, 
But she loves to lie and sleep 

In a sunny nook. 

** Daisy, come and play with me/* 

little Ethel cries; 
Daisy sleeps and nods away, 

Doesn t wink her eyes. 

Daisy, though she s three yeara old, 

Cannot tell her name ; 
Does n t know her A, B, C : 

Isn t it a shame? 

But she sings one little song, 

Very soft and pretty : 
Purr-purr-purr the whole day long 




1 LITTLE child one winter night, 
-DL Ere she was put to bed. 
Went out and saw the full clear moon. 
And in she ran and said 

"Mamma! mamma! come here! comequickl 

Mamma ! God s gone to bed, 
And has not put His candle out ! 

a Hush, child!" the mother said, 

"God does not go to bed like us, 

Nor does He need to sleep." 
**And does He sit up all the night, 

"Wafch over us to keep?" 

** He watches o er us night and day, 

But needs no light to see." 
"No light, mamma F " No light, my child.* 

u Mamma, how can it be!" 

** He makes the owls to see by night, 

As if the daylight shone ; 
And darkness is to Him as light, 
And eyes He needeth none." 

"No eyes! then is He blind, mamma f 

"No, child, He sees so well, 

That everything is seen by Him 

In heaven, earth, and hell." 

" How strange, mamma, that He should i@ 

When He s so far away." 
"Not far, for He is everywhere, 
Aad with us night and day." 


** Why don*t we see Him then, mammal* 

u I cannot tell you how s 
But this I know, yon cannot se 

The air you re breathing now; 

" And neither can you see my sod, 

NOT yet your own, I ween, 
It is not tlien so very strange 
That God should not be seen. 

** "Now go to bed, and ere you go 

To God your prayers say, 
That He may please to spare your life 

To see another day." 



sparkling- bowl ! thou sparkling bowl I 
JL Though lips of bards thy brim may press, 
And eyes of beauty o*er thee roll, 

And song and dance thy power confess, 
I will not touch thee; for there clings 
A scorpion to thy side that stings I 

Thou crystal glass ! like Eden*s tree* 

Thy melted ruby tempts theeye t 
And, as from that, there comes from thee 

The voice, ** Thou shalt not sorely die.* 
I dare not lift thy E<jnid gem ; 
A make is twisted round thy stem! 


What though of gold the goblet Be, 
Embossed with branches of the vine, 

Beneath whose burnished leaves we see 
Such clusters as pour d out the wine? 

Among those leaves an adder hangs 1 

I iear him ; for I ve felt his fangs. 

Ye gracious clouds ! ye deep, cold wells ! 

Ye gems, from mossy rocks that drip ! 
Springs, that from earth s mysterious cells 

Gush o er your granite basin s lip ! 
To you I look ; your largess give, 
And I will drink of you, and live. 



wear my rosebud, for love, papa/ 

Said Phebe with eyes so blue. 
* This sprig of myrtle put with it, papa, 

To tell of my love," said Prue. 
Said Patience, " This heart s-ease shall whisper, papa, 

Forget not my love is true." 

Papa looked into the laughing eyes, 

And answered, to each little girl s surprise : 

"My darlings, I thank you, but dearer than these 

Forgive me far dearer are bonnie sweet peas!" 

Then he clasped them to his heart so true, 

Aad whirred, Sweet F Phebe, Patience, and Prae I" 




fTlHE sunlight shone on walls of stone 
JL And towers sublime and tali ; 
King Alfred sat upon his throne 
Within his council hall. 

And glancing o er the splendid throng, 
With grave and solemn face, 

To where his noble vassals stood, 
He saw a vacant place. 

Where Is the Earl of Holderness?" 

With anxious look, he said. 
"Alas, O King! 1 a courtier cried, 
"The noble Earl is dead!" 

Before the monarch could express 

The sorrow that he felt, 
A soldier with a war-worn face 

Approached the throne and knelt. 

**My sword," he said, ** has ever been, 

O TTmgl at thy command, 
And many a proud and haughty Dane 

Has fallen by my hand. 

"I ve fought beside thee in the field, 
And neath the greenwood tree ; 

It is but fair for thee to give 
Yon vacant place to me. * 

* It is not just,** a statesman cried, 

"This soldier s prayer to hear, 
Mj wisdom ta done more for 
. either sword or spear. 


m The of the council tall 

Have renown 

Than all the triumphs of the field 

Have given to thy crown. 

tf My name is known in every land, 

Ify talents have been thine, 
Bestow this Earldom, then, on me. 

For it is justly mine," 

Yet, while before the monarch s throw 

These men contending stood, 
A woman crossed the floor who wore 

The weeds of widowhood. 

And slowly to King Alfred s feel 

A fair-haired boy she led 
"O King! this is the rightful heir 

Of Holderness/ she said. 

44 Helpless lie comes to claim his own, 

Let no man do him wrong, 
For he is weak and fatherless, 

And then art just and strong.** 

** What strength of power,** the statesman oriel, 

u Could such a judgment bring? 
Can such a feeble child as this 

Do aught for thee, O King! 

** When thorn hast need of brawny &nm 

To draw thy deadly bows, 
When thon art wanting crafty i 

To crab toy mortal foes** 


With voice tlie fair young boy 

Replied; " I fight, 

But I can pray to God, O King! 
And Heaven can give thee might I" 

The King "bent down and the child. 

The courtiers turned away. 
** The heritage is thine/ 9 he said, 

** Let none their right gainsay. 

" Our swords may cleave the casques of men, 

Our blood may stain the sod, 
But what are human strength and power 

Without the help of God!" 



DO yon know how many stars 
There are shining in the sky? 
Do yon know how many clouds 
Every day go floating by? 

God in Heaven has counted all, 
He would miss one should it fall. 

Do yon know how many children 

Go to little beds at night, 
And without a care or sorrow, 

Wake up in the morning light? 
God in Heaven each name can tell, 
Knows you, too, and knows you welL 



TO be cold breathless, to feel not and speak not 
this is not the end of existence to the men who have 
their spHisinto the institutions of their court* 

try, who lave stamped their characters on the pillars of 
the age ? who have poured their hearts blood into the 
channels of the public prosperity. 

Tell me, ye who tread the sods of yon saered height,, 
is Warren dead ? Can you not still see him not pale 
and prostate, the blood of his gallant heart pouring out 
of hia ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the 
field of honor, with the rose of heaven upon his cheek 
and the fire of liberty in his eye ? 

Tell me, ye who make your pious pilgrimage to the 
shades of Yemen, is Washington indeed shut up in that 
cold and Barrow house? That which made these men, 
and men like these, cannot die. 

The hand that traced the charter of independence is, 
indeed, motionless; the eloquent lips that sustained it are 
hushed ; but the lofty spirits that conceived, resolved and 
maintained it, and which alone, to such men, make it 
life to live these cannot expire. 



FTP the Ml, whip me not j down the hill, hurry me 
v not; in the stable, forget me not; of hay and corn, 
rob me not | of clean water, stint me not ; with sponge 
and brush, neglect me not ; of soft, dry bed, deprive me 
not; if sick or cold, chill me not; with bit and reins, 
ah I Jerk me not | and when you are angry, strike me not 



|^ OOD friends, sweet friends 3 let me not stir you up 

^J To such a sodden of mutiny. 

They, that have done this deed, are honorable : 

What private griefs they have, alas ! I know not. 

That made them do ! t ; they are wise and honorable, 

And will, BO doubt, with answer you. 

I came not, friends, to steal away your hearts ; 

I am no orator, as Brutus Is ; 

But as you know me all, a plain, Want man, 

That love my friend, and thafe they know fall well 

That gave me public leave to speak of Mm. 

For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 

To stir men s blood : I only speak right on ; 

I tell you that which you yourselves do know ; 

Show you sweet Gsesar s wounds, poor, poor dumb mouthy 

And hid them speak for me : But were I Brutus 

And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 

Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 

In every wound of Csesar, that should move 

The stones of Borne to rise and mutiny. 



k "FQ~K. was trotting oo one day, 
xl And just above his head 
He spied a vine of luscious grapes. 

Rich, ripe, and purple-red ; 
Eager he tried to snatch the fruity 

But, ah 1 it was too high I 


Poor Heynard had to give it up, 

And, heaving a deep sigh, 
He curl d Ms nose and said, a Dear me ! 

I would not waste an tour 
Upon such mean common fruit 

I m sure those grapes are" sour I" 
Tis thus we often wish thro life, 

When seeking wealth and pow r ; 
And when we fail, say, like the fox, 

We re ** sure the grapes are sour V 


NEVER be ashamed to say/* I do not know. 7 * Men 
will then believe you when you say, " I do know." 

Never be ashamed to say, " I can t afford it ;" " I can t 
afford to waste time In the idleness to which you Invite 
me," or " I can t afford the money you ask me to spend." 
Never affect to be other than you are either wiser or 

Learn to say " "No " with decision ; " Yes " with cau 
tion. " No " with decision whenever, it resists temptation ; 
" Yes 5 * with caution whenever it implies a promise ; for 
a promise once given is a bond inviolable. 

A man is already of consequence In the world when it 
is known that we can implicitly rely upon him. Often 
have I known a man to be preferred In stations of honor 
and profit because he had this reputation : when he said 
he knew a thing, he knew it ; and when he said he would 
do a thing, he did it 



Your doll should her 

Could you It whole by crying 

Till eyes and nose are red ? 
And wouldn t It be pleasanter 
To treat It as a joke, 
And say you re glad twas dolly s 

And not your head that broke? 

Suppose you re dressed for walking 

A nd the rain comes pouring down, 
Will it clear off any sooner 

Because you scold and frown f 
And wouldn t it be nicer 

For you to smile than pout, 
And so make sunshine in the house 

When there is none without ? 

Suppose your task, my little man, 

Is very hard to get, 
Will it ma-ke it any easier 

For you to sit and fret? 
And wouldn t it be nicer 

Than waiting like a dunce, 
To go to work in earnest 

learn the thing at once ? 

And suppose the world don t pleaae you, 
Nor the way some people do, 

I>o you think the whole creation 
Will be altered just for you? 


isn t it, my boy or girl, 
The bravest, wisest plan 
Whatever cymes or doesn t come. 
To do the best you can ? 



TWO little squirrels, out In the sun, 
One gathered nuts, and the other had none; 
i8 Time enough yet," Ms constant refrain; 
" Summer is still only just on the wane." 

Listen, my child, while I tell you his fate: 

He roused him at last, "but he roused him too late ; 

Down fell the snow from a pitiless cloud, 

And gave little squirrel a spotless white shroud. 

Two little boys in a school-room were placed, 

One always perfect, the otter disgraced ; 

"Time enough yet for my learning," he said ; 

" I will climb, by and by, from the foot to the head.** 

listen, my darling ; their locks are turned gray ; 
One as a Governor sitteth to-day; 

The other, a pauper, looks out at the door 

Of the almshouse, and idles his days as of yonu 

Two Muds of people we meet every day: 
One is at work, the other at play, 
Living uncared for, dying unknown 
The busiest hive hath ever a drone* 


DOLLY knows what s the matter Dolly and I. 
It isn t the nor the oh! dear, I 

It s the mothering we want, Dolly, the what shall 1 

call it? 

And gracdpa lie has sent- he put the spateli safe 
in his wallet. 

1 know well enough lie dropped that telegraph spateh 
In the ire, 

If mother just knew, she d. come, if 5 twas on the tele 
graph wire! 

She d take my poor head, that Is splitting this very 

And she d sing "There s a Happy Land," and the hymn 
that has * 4 Darling" In it, 

Course, I like grandpa s house; it s the splendidest place 
to stay, 

When there s all the out-doors to live in, and nothing to 
do but play; 

Somehow you forget your mother that is, just the lit 
tlest bit, 

Though if she were here, I suppose that I shouldn t 
mention it, 

But oh! there s a difference, Dolly, when your head Is 

so full of pains 
That excepting the ache that s in *em) there s nothing 

left of your brains. 
Remember how nice it feels, Dolly, to have your head 

petted and "poored." 
Ache? Why, I ache all over, and my bed is as hard M 



** It s a swee^ lovely morning." It may be 

for all that I care; 
There Is just one spot in this great wide world that h 

pretty I wish 1 was there ! 
I can see the white roses climbing all over the low porch 

And the daisies and buttercups growing I never Half 

loved them before. 

And mother let s see ! she s standing in that very same 
door, no doubt ; 

She loves to look out in the morning and see what the 
world is about, 

la a pale-blue something-or-other a loose sort of wrap 
per, I guess ; 

As if a few yards of sky had been taken to make a 

And up from the pine woods yonder comes a beautiful 

woodsy smell, 
And the breeze keeps a hinting of May flowers the 

real-pink arbutus bell ; 
And I think most likely the robins have built in the 

cherry tree ; 
And by and by there ll be birdies and I shall not be 

there to see! 

Bid you hear any noise, Dolly ! Speak, Dolly, you lit 
tle witch ! 

As if something was laughing or crying! I couldn % t 
tell which! 


kept from crfing, o ikr ; wVt dioked kit 
wouldn t cry; 

Fve just talked it out to yon, dear; I had to, or else Fi 

But if fa JXM, mother and I know by your iipi 

that it B 
Fll jast squeeze your head off! you think tbat all I 

want is a kiss! 

O mother! to papa and Tom you needn t go mention ft, 
But you know it was homesickness almost killed your 

poor little Kit! 


SIR, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a 
just God who presides over the desiinies of nations, 

and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. 
The battle^ sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the 
vigilant, the active, the brava - Besides, sir, we bave no 
election. If we were base enongh to desire it, it is now 
too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat 
but in submission and slavery I Our chains are forged ! 
Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! 
The war is inevitable: and let it come! I repeat it, sir, 
let it come I 

It is in vain, slr f &> cocteimate the matter. Gentlemen 
may cry, Peace, peace; but there is no peace. The war 
is actually begnn! The next gale that sweeps from the 
North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! 
Our brethren are already in the fieldt Why stao4 Wf 


! it that 

Is life or BO at 

to fee -i lie of cLjdi-g and ? For 

bid it, 1 n:t 

but fit for ^ive mo or me 

nptO tiss by the tha one 

-I- tie lie 

they with "Mow of yea, 


the I was afarff*- 

ma of all M? 

&e die was in the lot, 

Hie the rest was a ; 

F0r BO her up the door; 

she all the same, 
Poor her tie bkme. 

the ** I was not up way 

as I BOW 
the bnl^ bj t his horns very high* 

"Let object, 

1 y ibis, that calf 1 

out tie a lt is 

To of tridks/* 

fiie In the 4 * Fm *twasn f l me f* 
1ml the all cried, w Bah I (there were ) 

Fw tlttl calf a got im m ix. w 

4LF. 43 

4 Why, of we mil tibe to 


Bald the M Of ud the cat 

"I tie m * 

Fin not ts ; 


the was the 

tLe of tie jar], in 

s Did my doorf* tie 

** I did, sir, I It last 

tie ** an J 1 thought was right" 

bis " It/* 

* for her ways." 

lie ** my 

You I reimy^ 

And yoar is from to-day. 

* F0r m wonder f last night, I fozgot the 

And if you not It so neat, 
All my colts had slipped in, to the him, 

And got they net to eat* 

Hiey f cl have foundered ttemselYCS wheat/* 

Tten each hoof of them all loudly to bawl* 

The very mule smilai^ the cock crew : 

* little Spotty, my clear, you re a favorite here* w 

They cried, ** we all It was you, 
We were so glad to giYe you your due.** 
AIM! Hie calf answered knowingly, ** Boo P 

Pn<xra Chunr . 



*TTO! for a frolic-!" 
-DL gaid Johnny the stout ; 

u There s coasting and sledding- 
I m going out" 

Scarcely had Johnny 
Plunged in the snow, 

When there came a complain* 
Up from his toe : 

* We re cold," said the toe. 

* I and the rest ; 
There s ten of us freezing 

Standing abreast." 

Then up spoke an ear ; 

"My, but it s labor 
Playing in winter. EL I 

Opposite neighbor I" 

" Pooh I" said hia nose, 

Angry and red ; 
"Who wants to tingle. 

Go home to bed f 

Eight little fingers, 

Four to a thumb, 
All cried together 

" Johnny, we re numb P 

But Johnny the stout 
Wouldn t listen a minute j 

Never a snow bank 
But Johnny was in it 


Tumbling and jumping, 

Shouting with glee, 
Wading the snow-drifts 

Up to his knee. 

Soon he forgot them 

Fingers and toes, 
Never once thought of 

The ear and the nose* 

Ah! What a frolic! 

All in a glow, 
Johnny grew warmer 

Out in the snow. 

Often his breathing 

Came with a joke ; 
"Blaze away, Johnny! 

I ll do the smoke." 

"And I ll do the fire/* 
Said Johnny the bold. 

"Fun is the fuel 

For driving off cold." 


WE are but minutes, little things, 
Each one furnished with sixty wloga, 
With which we fly on our unseen track, 
And not a minute ever comes back. 


We are but minutes ; eacn one bears 
A little burden of joys and cares ; 
Take patiently the minutes of pain, 
The worst of minutes cannot remain. 

We are but minutes ; when we bring 
A few of the drops from Pleasure s spring, 
Taste their sweetness while yet ye may, 
It takes but a minute to fly away. 


OH ! why must I always be washed so clean 
And scrubbed and drenched for Sunday, 
When you know, very well, for you ve always seen 
That I m dirty again on Monday ? 

My eyes are filled with the lathery soap, 

Which adown my ears is dripping ; 
And my smarting eyes I can scarcely ope, 

And my lips the suds are sipping. 

It s down my neck and up my nose, 

And to choke me you seem to be trying ; 

That I ll shut my mouth you need not suppose, 
For how can I keep from crying? 

You rub as hard as ever you can, 

And your hands are hard, to my sorrow; 

Ho woman shall wash me when I m a man, 
And I wish I was one to-morrow. 



NATURE will be reported all things are engaged 
in writing J .ts history. The planet, the pebble, 
goes attended oy its shadow. The rolling rock leaves 
its scratches on the mountain, the river its channels in 
the soil, the animal its bones in the stratum, the fern 
and leaf their modest epitaph in the coal. The fallen 
drop makes its sculpture in the sand or stone; not a 
footstep in the snow, or along the ground, but prints, in 
characters more or less lasting, a map of its march ; 
every act of man inscribes itself in the memories of his 
fellows and in his own face. The air is full of sounds, 
the sky of tokens, the ground of memoranda and signa 
tures, and every object is covered over with hints which 
speak to the intelligent. 



O EE the frog, the slimy, green frog, 
IJ Dozing away on that old rotten log ; 
Seriously wondering 
What caused the sundering 
Of the tail that he wore when a wee pollywog. 

See the boy, the freckled schoolboy, 
Filled with a wicked love to annoy, 

Watching the frog 

Perched on the log 
With feelings akin to tumultuous jojr. 


See the rock, the hard, flinty rock, 

Which the freckled-faced boy at the frog doth sock 

Conscious he s sinning, 

Yet gleefully grinning 
At the likely result of its terrible shock, 

See the grass, the treacherous grass, 
Slip from beneath his feet ! Alas I 

Into the mud 

With a dull thud 
He falls, and rises a slimy mass. 

Now, see the frog, the hilarious frog, 
Dancing a jig on his old rotten log, 

Applying his toes 

To his broad, blunt nose, 
As he laughs at the boy stuck fast in the bog. 

# # # 5fc SfC # 

Look at the switch, the hickory switch, 
Waiting to ufake that schoolboy twitch. 

When his mother knows 

The state of his clothes 
Won t ne raise his voice to its highest pitch f 



TAKE a robin s leg 
(Mind, the drumstick merely), 
Put it in a tub 

FilTd with water nearly j 
Set it out-of-doors, 

In a place that s shady, 
Let it stand a week, 
(Three days for a lady). 

Drop a spoonful of it 

In a five-pail kettle, 
Which may be made of tin 

Or any baser metal ; 
Fill the kettle up, 

Set it on a boiling, 
Strain the liquor well 

To prevent its oiling. 

One atom add of salt, 

For the thickening one rice kernel, 
And use to light the fire 

"The Homoeopathic Journal." 
Let the liquor boil 

Half-an-hour, no longer. 
If tis for a man 

Of course you ll make it stronger. 

Should you now desire 

That the soup be flavory, 
Stir it once around 

With a stalk of savory* 


When the broth is made, 

No thing can excel It; 
Then three times a day 

Let the patient smell It* 
If he chance to die, 

Say twas Nature did it 5 
If he chance to live, 

Give the soup the credit, 


something in the name of Rate, 
JL Which many will condemn ; 
But listen now while I relate 
The trials of some of them. 

There s advo-Kate, a charming miss $ 

Could you her hand obtain, 
She ll lead you in the path of bliss, 

Nor plead your cause in vain. 

There s deli-Kate, a modest dame, 

And worthy of your love ; 
She s nice and beautiful in frames 

As gentle as a dove. 

Communi-Kate s intelligent, 

As we may well suppose; 
Her fruitful mind is ever bent 

On telling what she knows. 

There s intri-Kate; she s so obscure 

*Tis hard to find her out, 
For she is often very sure 

To put your wits to rout 


PreVari-Kate s a stubborn mind, 

She s sure to have her way j 
The cavilling, contrary jade 

Objects to all you say. 

There s alter-Kate, a perfect pest, 

Much given to dispute ; 
Her prattling tongue can never rest; 

You cannot her refute. 

There s dislo-Kate, quite in a fret, 

Who fails to gain her point; 
Her case is quite unfortunate, 

And sorely out of joint. 

Equivo-Kate no one will woo, 

The thing would be absurd; 
She is faithless and untrue, 

You cannot take her word. 

There s vindi-Kate ; she s good and true, 

And strives with all her might 
Her duty faithfully to do, 

And battles for the right. 

There s rusti-Kate, a country lass, 

Quite fond of rural scenes; 
She likes to ramble through the grass, 

And through the evergreens. 

Of all the maidens you can find, 

There s none like edu-Kate; 
Because she elevates the mind, 

And aims for something great. 



Brewers should to Malt-a go, 
A The Loggerheads to Scilly, 
The Quakers to the Friendly Isles, 
The Furriers all to Chili. 

The little squalling, brawling brats, 

That break our nightly rest, 
Should be packed off to Baby-Ion, 

To Lap-land, or to Brest. 

From Spit-head Cooks go o er to Greece j 

And while the Miser waits 
His passage to the Guinea coast, 

Spendthrifts are in the Straits. 

Spinsters should to the Needles go, 

Wine-bibbers to Burgundy ; 
Gourmands should lunch at Sandwich Isles, 

Wags in the Bay of Fundy. 

Musicians hasten to the Sound, 

The surpliced Priest to Borne, 
While still the race of Hypocrites 

At Cant-on are at home. 

Lovers should hasten to Good Hope; 

To some Cape Horn is pain ; 
Debtors should go to Oh-i-o, 

And Sailors to the Main-e. 

Hie, Bachelors, to the "United Sfotes! 

Maids to the Isle of Man ; 
Let Gardeners go to Botany Bay, 

And Shoeblacks to Japan. 


Thus, emigrants and misplaced men 

"Will no longer vex us ; 
- And all that ar n t provided for 
Had better go to Texas. 


TTTHATEYER you are, be brave, boys f 
The liar s a coward and slave, boys ! 

Though clever at ruses, 

And sharp at excuses, 
BCe s a sneaking and pitiful knave, boys 

Whatever you are, be frank, boys ! 
Tis better than money and rank, boys ; 

Still cleave to the right, 

Be lovers of light, 
Be open, above board, and frank, boys f 

Whatever you are, be kind, boys ! 

Be gentle in manner and mind, boys ; 
The man gentle in mien, 
Words, and temper, I ween, 

Is the gentleman truly refined, boys ! 

But, whatever you are, be true, boys 1 
Be visible through and through, boys ! 
Leave to others the shamming, 
The "greening" and "cramming," 
In fun and in earnest, be true, boys ! 




[This selection may be rendered very effective, if the reader, 1 , 

the meaning or the text, should Imitate the movements of a cobbler 
bending forward, stitching and fitting, sewing motion, boring a hoi* 
sticking in pegs, and hammering with fingers.] 

WANDERING up and down one day, 
I peeped into a window over the way ; 
And putting his needle through and through, 
There sat the cobbler making a shoe. 

For the world he cares never the whisk of a broom ; 
All he wants is his elbow-room, 
Rap-a-tap-tap, tick-a-tack-too, 
This is the way he makes a shoe. 

Over lasts of wood, his bits of leather 
He stretches and fits, then sews together ; 
He puts his waxed-ends through and through, 
And still as he stitches, his body goes too. 

For the world he cares never the whisk of a broom ; 
All he wants is his elbow-room, 
Rap-a-tap-tap, tick-a-tack-too, 
This is the way he makes a shoe. 

With his little sharp awl he makes a hole 

Right through the upper and through the sole 

He puts in one peg, or he puts in two, 

And chuckles and laughs as he hammers them through 

For the world he cares never the whisk of a broom ; 
All he wants is his elbow-room, 
Rap-a-tap-tap, tick-a-tack-too, 
This is the way he makes a shoe* 



T WONDER if the little birds 
J- That soar above my head 
Are scolded all the sunny day, 
And then sent off to bed ? 

I almost "wish I was a bird, 

And had a pair of wings; 
I d fly away from this dull place 

And all these stupid things. 

There s always such a dreadful fhss 

If I do what I ve a mindj 
Mother looks so sorrowful, 

I half wish I were blind. 

I m sure tis not BO very wrong 

For girls to like to play ; 
I don t know why they want us to 

Be studying all day. 

I haven t learned my lesson yet, 

Or sewed that horrid seam ; 
I ve broke my doll and sent my swing 

Above the highest beam. 

Everything is going wrong, 

And has been all the day. 
I hate to work, and seems to me 

I almost hate to play. 

I wonder why I feel so cross 

When mother is so kind ; 
She sighs and speaks so very low 

When I don t want to mind. 


I am a naughty, willful girl 

I know it all the while; 
111 run and tell dear mother so, 

And then how soon shell smlk. 

And if I live to see the sun 

Upon another day, 
I ll find my highest happiness 

In a less selfish way. EL K. P. 


OECESSION! Peaceable secession! Sir, your eyes 

and mine are never destined to see that miracle! 
The dismemberment of this vast country without con 
vulsion! The breaking up of the fountains of the great 
deep without ruffling the surface! Who is so foolish 

1 beg everybody s pardon as to expect to see any such 
thing ? 

Sir, he who sees these States now revolving in harmony 
around a common centre, and expects to see them quit 
their places, and fly off without convulsion, may look 
the next hour to see the heavenly bodies rush from their 
spheres and jostle against each other in the realms of 
space without causing the crush of the universe. There 
can be no such thing as peaceable secession. Peaceable 
secession is an utter impossibility. 

Is the great Constitution under which we live, cover 
ing this whole country is it to be thawed and melted 
away by secession, as the snows on the mountain melt 
under the influence of a vernal sun, disappear almost 
unobserved and run off? No, sir ! . NO* gir I I will not 


state what might produce the disruption of the Union j 
but, sir, I see as plainly as I see the sun in heaven, what 
that disruption itself must produce ; I see that it must 
produce war, and such a war as I will not describe in 
its twofold character. 



[The following selection can "be made very humorous if the person 
reading it assumes the tones of a very little child, and in appropriate 
places imitates the cry of a baby.] 

I AM here. And if this is what they call the world, 
I don t think much of it. It s a very ftannelly 
world, and smells of paregoric awfully. It s a dreadful 
light world, too, and makes me blink, I tell you. And 
I don t know what to do with my hands ; I think I ll 
dig my fists in my eyes. No, I won t. I ll scratch at 
the corner of my blanket and chew it up, and then I ll 
holler; whatever happens, I ll holler. And the more 
paregoric they give me, the louder I ll yell. That old. 
nurse puts the spoon in the corner of my mouth, side- 
wise like, and keeps tasting my milk herself all the 
while. She spilt snuff in it last night, and when I 
hollered she trotted me. That comes of being a two- 
days-old baby. Never mind; when I m a man, I ll pay 
her back good. There s a pin sticking in me now, and 
if I say a word about it, I ll be trotted or fed ; and I 
would rather have catnip-tea. I ll tell you who I am. 
I found out to-day. I heard folks say, "Hush! don t 
wake up Emeline s baby; and I suppose that pretty, 
white-faced woman over on the pillow is Emeline* 


No, I was mistaken ; for a chap was in here just men* 
and wanted to see Bob s baby ; and looked at me and 
said I was a funny little toad, and looked just like Bob. 
He smelt of cigars. I wonder who else I belong to! 
Yes, there s another one that s "Gamma." "It was 
Gamma s baby, so it was/* I declare, I do not know 
who I belong to ; but I ll holler, and maybe I ll find 
out There comes snufiy with catnip-tea. I m going to 
sleep. I wonder why my hands won t go where I want 
them to I 


WHERE is the liquor which God the eternal brews 
for all His children ? Not in the simmering still, 
over smoky fires choked with poisonous gases, and sur~ 
rounded with the stench of sickening odors and rank 
corruptions, doth your Father in heaven prepare the 
precious essence of life the pure cold water. But in 
the green glade and grassy dell, where the red deer 
wanders, and the child loves to play, there God brews 
it. And down, low down in the deepest valleys, where 
the fountains murmur and the rills sing; and high upon 
the tall mountain tops, where the naked granite glitters 
like gold .in the sun; where the storm-cloud broods, and 
the thunder-storms crash; and away far out on the wide, 
wild sea, where the hurricane howls music, and the big 
waves roar, the chorus sweeping the march of God: 
there He brews it that beverage of life and health- 
giving water. And everywhere it is a thing of beauty ; 
gleaming in the dew-drop, singing in the summer rain, 
ng in the ice-gem till the leaves all seemed turned 


to living jewels, spreading a golden veil over the setting 
Bun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon. 

Sporting in the cataract; sleeping in the glacier; 
dancing in the hail-shower; folding its bright snow cur 
tains softly about the wintry world; and waving the 
many-colored iris, that seraph s zone of the sky, whose 
warp is the rain-drop of earth, whose woof is the sun 
beam of heaven; all chequered over with celestial 
flowers by the mystic hand of refraction. 

Still always it is beautiful, that life-giving water ; no 
poison bubbles on its brink; its foam brings not mad 
ness and murder; no blood stains its liquid glass; pale 
widows and starving orphans weep no burning tears in 
its depths ; no drunken shrieking ghost from the grave 
curses it in the words of eternal despair. Speak, my 
friends, would you exchange it for demon s drink, 



f] RANDPAPA S spectacles cannot be found! 

vT He has searched all the rooms, high and low, round 

and round ; 

Now he calls to the young ones, and what does he say! 
"Ten cents" to the child who will find them to-day. 

Then Harry and Nelly and Edward all ran, 

And a most thorough search for the glasses began. 

And dear little Nell in her generous way 

Said, " Fll look for them, Grandpa, without any pay." 

60 SIK." 

All through the big Bible she searched with care, 

It lies on the table by Granpapa s chair. 
They feel in his pockets, they peep in his hat, 
They pull out the sofa and shake out the mat. 

Then down on the floor, like good-natured bears, 
Go Harry and Ned under tables and chairs, 
Till quite out of breath, Ned is heard to declare, 
He believed that those glasses are not anywhere. 

But Nelly, who, leaning on Grandpapa s knee, 

Was thinking most earnestly, " where can they be ?" 

Looked suddenly up in the kind, faded eyes, 

And her own shining brown ones grew big with surprise* 

She clapped with her hands, all her dimples came out, 
She turned to the boys with a bright, roguish shout, 
" You may leave off your looking, both Harry and Ned, 
For there are the glasses on Grandpapa s head." 


TTSE sin as it will use you ; spare it not, for it will 
*J not spare you ; it is your murderer, and the mur 
derer of the world; use it, therefore, as a murderer 
should be used. Kill it before it kills you ; and though 
it kill your bodies, it shall not be able to kill your souls ; 
and though it bring you to the grave, as it did your 
Head, it shall not be able to keep you there. 





MET seventeen hundred thirty-two, 

This very month and day. 
Winking and blinking at the lights 
A little baby lay. 

No doubt they thought the little man 

A goodly child enough ; 
But time has proved that he was made 

Of most uncommon stuff. 

The little babe became a man 

That everybody knew 
Would finish well what he began, 

And prove both firm and true. 

Bo when the Revolution came, 

That made our nation free, 
They couldn t find a better man 

For general, you see. 

As general, he never failed 
Or faltered ; so they thought 

He ought to be the President, 
And so I m sure he ought. 

And then he did his part so well 

As President twas plain 
They couldn t do a better thing 

Than choose him yet again. 

Through all his life they loved him wll, 
And mourned him when he died ; 

And ever since his noble name 
Has been our nation s pride. 


The lesson of his life is clear, 

And easy quite to gpess, 
Be firm and true, if you would make 

Your life a grand success. 




O For dainties was sick, 
So he slyly stole into the kitchen, 

Snatched a cup from the pantry, 

And darted out quick, 
Unnoticed by mother or Gretchen. 

Whispered he, "There s no cake, 

For to-morrow they bake, 
But this custard looks rich and delicious ; 

How they ll scold at the rats, 

Or the mice, or the cats ; 
For of me I don t think they re suspicious, 

"They might have filled up 

Such a mean little cup ! 
And for want of a spoon I must drink it: 

But tis easy to pour 

Hark! who s at the door?" 
And the custard went down ere you d thinlr it. 

With a shriek he sprang up; 

To the floor dashed the cup; 
Then he howled, tumbled, sputtered, and blustered, 

Till the terrible din 

Brought the whole household in 
He had swallowed a cupful of mustard I 


fTIHE woman was old, and ragged, and gray, 
JL And bent with the chill of a winter s day ; 
The streets were white with a recent snow. 
And the woman s feet with age were slow. 

At the crowded crossing she waited long, 
Jostled aside by the careless throng 
Of numan beings who passed her by, 
Unheeding the glance of her anxious eye. 

Down the street with laughter and shout, 
Clad in the freedom of " school let out/ 
Come happy boys, like a flock of sheep, 
Hailing the snow piled white and deep ; 
Past the woman, so old and gray, 
Hastened the children on their way. 

None offered a helping hand to her, 

So weak and timid, afraid to stir, 

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses feet 

Should trample her down in the slippery street. 

At last came out of the merry troop 
The gayest boy of all the group ; 
He paused beside her, and whispered low, 
"I ll kelp you across, if you wish to go." 

Her aged hand on his strong young arm 
She placed, and so without hurt or harm, 
He guided the trembling feet along, 
Proud that his own were young and strong; 
Then back again to his friends he went, 
His young heart happy and well content. 


"She s somebody s mother, boys, you know, 
For all she s aged, and poor, and slow ; 
And some one, some time, may lend a hand 
To help my mother yon understand? 
If ever she s poor, and old, and gray, 
And her own dear boy so far away/* 

"Somebody s mother" bowed low her head, 
In her home that night, and the prayer she said 
Was: "God, be kind to that noble boy, 
Who is somebody s son, and pride, and joy." 

Faint was the voice, and worn and weak, 

But the Father hears when His children speak ; 

Angels caught the faltering word, 

And "Somebody s Mother s" prayer was heard. 


I M just a little boy, you know, 
And hardly can remember, 
When people ask how old I am, 
To tell em four last vember. 
And yet for all I am so small, 

I made so many stitches 
For mamma s fingers, that she put 
Her little boy in breeches. 

You may be sure that I was glad ; 

I marched right up and kissed her, 
Then gave my bibs and petticoats, 

And all, to baby sister. 

WORK. 66 

I never whine, now I m so fine, 

And don t get into messes ; 
For mamma says, if I am bad, 

She lfput me back in dresses ! 

There s buttons up and down my legi, 

And buttons on my jacket; 
I d count em all, but baby makes 

Just now, an awful racket. 
She s sitting there, behind the chair, 

"With blocks, and dolls, and kitty, 
A playing " go to gran ma s house," 

Alone, *n that s a pity. 

I think I ll go and help her some, 

I m sure it would amuse me ; 
So I won t bother any more 

To talk if you ll excuse me.- 
But first I ll stand before the glass, 

From top to toe it reaches: 
Now look! there s head, and hands, and feet, 

But all the rest is breeches! 



nPIHERE is a perennial nobleness, and even sacredness. 
JL in work. Were he ever so benighted, or forgetful of 
his high calling, there is always hope in a man that actually 
and earnestly works ; in idleness alone there is perpetual 
despair. Consider how, even in the meanest sorts of 
labor, the whole soul of a man is composed into real 


Harmony. He bends lilmself with free valor against ma 
task; and doubt, desire, sorrow, remorse, indignation, 
despair itself, shrink murmuring far off in their caves. 
The glow of labor in him is a purifying fire, wherein all 
poison is burned up ; and of smoke itself there is made 
a bright and blessed flame. 

Blessed is he who has found his work ; let him ask no 
other blessedness ; he has a life purpose. Labor is life. 
From the heart of the worker rises the celestial force, 
breathed into him by Almighty God, awakening him 
to all nobleness, to all knowledge. Hast thou valued 
patience, courage, openness to light, or readiness to own 
thy mistakes ? In wrestling with the dim brute powers 
of fact thou wilt continually learn. For every noble 
work the possibilities are diffused through immensity, 
undiscoverable, except to faith. 

Man, son of heaven! is there not in thine inmost 
heart a spirit of active method, giving thee no rest till 
thou unfold it? Complain not. Look up. See thy 
fellow-workmen surviving through eternity, the sacred 
band of immortals. 



ANCE I knew a little girl, 

\J Very plain ; 

You might try her hair to curl 

All in vain ; 

On her cheek no tint of rose 
Paled and blushed, or sought repose | 

She was plain. 


But the thoughts that through her brain 

Came and went, 
As a recompense for pain, 

Angels sent ; 

So foil many a beauteous thing, 
In her young soul blossoming, 

Gave content. 

Every thought was full of grace. 

Pure and true, 
And in time the homely face 

Lovelier grew ; 

"With a heavenly radiance bright. 
From the soul s reflected light 

Shining through. 

So I tell you, little child, 

Plain or poor, 
If your thoughts are undefiled, 

You are sure 

Of the loveliness of worth ; 
And this beauty not of earth 

Will endure. 



ONE of the best things in the world to be is a boy ; 
it requires no experience, though it needs some 
practice to be a good one. The disadvantage of the 
position is that he does not last long enough. It is soon 
oven Just as you get used to being a boy, you have to 
be something else, witli a good deal more work to do 

68 BEIffG A BOY. 

and not Imlf so much fun. And yet every boy is aaxioim 
to "be a man, and is very uneasy with the restrictions 
that are put upon him as a boy. There are so many 
bright spots in the life of a farm boy that I sometimes 
think I should like to live the life over again. I should 
almost be willing to be a girl if it were not for the 
chores. There is a great comfort to a boy in the amount 
of work he can get rid of doing. It is sometimes aston 
ishing how slow he can go on an errand. Perhaps he 
couldn t explain, himself, why, when he is sent to the 
neighbor s after yeast, he stops to stone the frogs. He 
is not exactly cruel, but he wants to see if he can hit 
em. It is a curious fact about boys, that two will be a 
great deal slower in doing anything than one. Boys 
have a great power of helping each other do nothing. 
But say what you will about the general usefulness of 
boys, a farm without a boy would very soon come to 
grief. He is always in demand. In the first place, he 
is to do all the errands, go to the store, the post-office, 
and to carry all sorts of messages. He would like to 
have as many legs as a wheel has spokes, and rotate 
about in the same way. This he sometimes tries to do, 
and people who have seen him " turning cart-wheels " 
along the side of the road have supposed he was amus 
ing himself and idling his time. He was only trying 
to invent a new mode of locomotion, so that he could 
economize his legs and do his errands with greater dis* 
patch. Leap-frog is one of his methods of getting over 
the ground quickly. He has a natural genius for com 
bining pleasure with business. 




SAID the first little chicken, 
With a queer little squirm* 
a I wish I could find 

A fat little 

Said the next little chicken, 
"With an odd little shrug, 

** I wish I could find 
A fat little bug." 

Said the third little chicken* 
With a sharp little squeal, 

44 1 wish I could find 

Some nice yellow meal.** 

Said the fourth little chicken, 
With a small sigh of grie 

" I wish I could find 
A green little lea" 

Said the fifth little chicken, 
With a faint little moan, 

** I wish I could find 
A wee gravel stone/* 

** Now, see here," said the mother* 
From the green garden patch, 

" If you want any breakfast, 
Just come here and scratch.** 



WHERE the grass had been newly mown, 
Before a rustic cottage home, * 

An Idle schoolboy strolled away, 
To waste his time in childish play. 

The school-bell rang, but there stood he, 
Happy as ever boy could be, 
Free from books, and schoolboy troubles, 
With grandpa s pipe, blowing bubbles. 

Away went bubbles, thick and fast, 
Like sparks from out a furnace blast, 
His eyes as large as saucers grew, 
As higher up the bubbles flew. 

With outstretched mouth and beaming eyes, 
He watched them, mounting toward the skies, 
And shook all .over with delight, 
To see them vanish out of sight. 

While Conrad thus his time employed, 
His grandpapa was much annoyed; 
When from a nap he soon awoke, 
And rose to take his wonted smoke. 

He seized his stout " Old Hickory" 
Went quick to where his pipe had lain, 
But looked the picture of despair, 
To find the pipe no longer there. 


In every nook and corner then, 
Through all the rooms, where he had been. 
He went to work with vigorous mind, 
Its secret hiding-place to find. 

He put his glasses on his nose, 
Old-fashioned " specs " with iron bows, 
Then turned about, and looked again, 
Where he had looked before in vain. 

But when his pipe could not be found, 
His groans were heard the house around, 
While, sad to tell, his pet grandchild 
Was blowing bubbles all this while. 

That good old face, superbly hale, 
Suddenly turned to ghastly pale ; 
He staggered back upon his bed, 
Where Conrad came, and found hint dead. 

The doctors all at once agreed 
That he had died (if dead indeed) 
From causes to themselves unknown, 
" Unless the want of smoke alone." 

In yonder church-yard, down the lane, 
A tombstone stands, with grandpa s name, 
Where all old smokers well can see 
How sad a fate their own may be. 

That marble shaft, erect and trim, 
Bears on its side Death s face so grim, 
With broken pipe carved underneath, 
And these few words " in bass-relief:" 


"For want of smote, this old man died, 
Of all things else he had enough j 

His good wife rests here by his side, 
Who died of using too much. snufE" 



TTTHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in 
the shock, 
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin 

turkey cock, 
And the clackin of the guineys and the cluckin of the 


And the rooster s hallylooyer, as he tiptoes on the fence, 
Oh 1 it s then the time a feller is a feelin* at his best, 
With the risin sun to greet him from a night of gracious 

As he leaves the house bareheaded, and goes out to feed 

the stock, 
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the 


They s scmepin kind o* heartylike about the atmos 

When the heat of summer s over and the coolin fall is 

Of course we miss the flowers and the blossoms on the 

And the mumble of the hunimin birds, and buzzin of 
the bees: 


But the air s so appetizing and the landscape through 

the haze 

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the early autumn days 
Is a picture that no painter has the coloriu* to mock 
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the 


The husky, rusty rustle of the tossels of the corn, 
And the raspin 7 of the tangled leaves, as golden as the 

morn ; 
The stubble in the furries, kind o j lonesome like, but 

A preachin sermons to HS of the barns they growed to 

The strawstack in the medder and the reaper in the 


The hosses in the stalls below, the clover overhead; 
Oh! it sets my heart a clicking like the tickin of a clock, 
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder s in the 



HIKE honorable gentleman has asked : " And now, will 
JL these Americans, children planted by our care^ 
nourished up by our indulgence and protected by our 
arms will they grudge to contribute their mite?" 

They planted by your care? No, your oppressions 
planted them in America ! They fled from your tyranny 
to a then uncultivated and inhospitable country. There 
they exposed themselves to almost all the hardships to 
which human nature is 


They nourished up by your indulgence t They grew 
by your neglect of them. As soon as you began to cara 
about them, that care was exercised in sending persons 
to rule them, to spy out their liberties, to misrepresent" 
their actions, to prey upon their substance. 

They protected by your arms! They have nobly 
taken up arms in your defense have exerted their valor 
for your own emolument. And believe me remember 
I this day told you so 4hat same spirit of freedom 
which actuated these Americans at first will accompany 
them still* They are now as truly loyal as any subjects 
the King has, but they are a people jealous of their 
liberties, and a people who will vindicate those liberties 
to the last drop of their blood. 



TYEAB little, bright-eyed WOlift, 
JL/ Always so full of glee, 
Always so very mischievoua, 
The pride of oar home is be. 

One bright summer day we fbcuMl Urn 

dose by the garden wall, 
Standing so grave and dignified 

Beside a sunflower tall. 

His tiny feet he had covered 
With the moist and cooling sand ; 

The stalk of the great, tall sunflower 
He grasped with hia ohmbbjl 


Wkea he saw us standing near Mm, 

Gazing so wonderingly 
At his babyship, lie greeted us 

With a merry shout of glee. 

We asked our darling what pleased him ; 

He replied, with a face aglow, 
* Mamma, I m going to be a man ; 

Fve planted myself to grow.** 


IN the search after true dignity, you may point me to 
the sceptred prince, ruling over mighty empires, to 
the lord of broad acres teeming with fertility, or the 
owner of coffers bursting with gold ; you may tell me of 
them or of learning, of the historian or of the philoso 
pher, the poet or the artist, and, while prompt to render 
such men all the honor which in varying degrees may 
be their due, I would emphatically declare that neither 
power nor nobility, nor wealth, nor learning, nor genius, 
nor benevolence, nor all combined, have a monopoly of 
dignity. I would take you to the dingy office, where 
day by day the pen plies its weary task ; or to the shop, 
where from early morning till half the world have 
sunk to sleep, the necessities and luxuries of life are 
distributed, with scarce an interval for food, and none 
for thought; I would descend farther, I would take 
you to the plowman, plodding along his furrows ; to the 
mechanic, throwing the swift shuttle or tending the busy 
wheeli; to the miner, groping his darksome way in the 
4eep wrerns of earth; to th* mm of the trowl, ti* 


hammer, or the forge, and if, while he diligently prose 
cutes his humble toil, he looks up with a brave heart 
and loving eye to heaven If in what he does he recog 
nizes his God, and expects his wages from on high if, 
while thus laboring on earth, he anticipates the rest of 
heaven, and can say, as did a poor man once, who, when 
pitied on account of humble lot, said, taking off his hat, 
"Sir, I am the son of a King, I am a child of God, and 
when I die, angels will carry me from this Union Work 
house direct to the Court of Heaven." Then, having 
shown yon such a spectacle, may I not ask Is there 
mot dignity in labor ? 


"TITHEKE did you come from, baby dear?" 
Y V a Out of the every- where into the here." 
u Where did you get your eyes so blue?" 
"Out of the sky as I came through." 

* What makes the light in them sparkle and spinf 1 " 
"Some of the starry spikes left in." 

* Where did you get that little tearf* 
*I found it waiting when I got here.** 

"What makes your forehead so smooth and highf* 
** A soft hand stroked it as I went by." 

* What makes your cheek like a warm white raft?" 
"Something better than any one 


m Whence that three-cornered smile of Miss?* 
"Three angels gave me at once a kiss/* 
** Where did you get that pearly ear T 9 
"God spoke, and it came out to hear/* 

** Where did you get those arms and hands T 9 

**LoYe made ifcx*Lf into hooks and bands." 

"Feet, whence 4id you come, you darling "things ?*" 

**!Yom the g^^e body as the cherubs wings," 

**How did tbey all just come to be you f * 
"God thought about me, and so I grew/* 
"But &o w did you come to us, my dear?" 
Ibojght of you, and so I am here." 



T THOUGHT when I d learned my letters 
JL That all of my troubles were done ; 
But I find myself much mistaken 

They only have just begun* 
Ijearning to read was awful, 

But nothing like learning to write; 
Fd be sorry to have you tell it, 

But my copy-book is a sight 1 

The ink gets over my fingers; 

The pen cats all sorts of shines, 
And won t do at all as I bid it; 

The letters won t stay on the linos, 


But go up and down and all over, 
As though they were dancing a jig* 

They are there in all shapes and sizes, 
Medium, little, and big. 

The tails of the g s are so contrary, 

The handles get on the wrong side 
Of the d s, and the k s, and the h s, 

Though I ve certainly tried and tried 
To make them just right; it is dreadful, 

I really don t know what to do, 
I m getting almost distracted 

My teacher says she is too. 

There d be some comfort in learning 

If one could get through : instead 
Of that there are books awaiting 

Quite enough to craze my head. 
There s the multiplication table, 

And grammar, and oh ! dear me, 
There s no good place for stopping 

When one has begun, I see. 

My teacher says, little by little 

To the mountain tops we climb; 
It isn t all done in a minute, 

But only a step at a time ; 
She says that all the scholars, 

All the wise and learned men, 
Had each to begin as I do ; 

If that s so, where s my pen? 




fpHE farmer and the fanner s wife 
-L A setting hen defied, 
And for awMle glad vict ry seemed 
To crown the aggressor s side. 

TKe coach-house was the battle-fieW, 

And Biddy s will was firm, 
Within its sacred precincts there 

To serve her little term. 

What though they shut the woodshed do**, 
And showed her there a nest 

Filled to the very "brim with eggs 
To soothe her ruffled breast. 

This Biddy knew a thing or two. 

And, from a window high, 
Back to her chosen nest again 

Triumphantly did fly 1 

Twasshoo! here, and shoo ! there, 
And shriek, and squawk, and flutter. 

Until that peaceful farm was filled 
With noises just too utter! 

The angry farmer lost his wits, 

The wife her apron shook, 
And all because this setting hen 

Had such determined look. 

They poked her, they punched htr; 

They breathed in accents dire ; 
But yet that fussy feathered fowl 

Her purpose kept entire. 


And even though a wagon-pole 

Was brandished at. a pinch, 

They could not scare nor terriry 

Nor budge that hen an inch, 

At last the farmer charged the hen, 
But punched a mild-eyed cow, 

Who poked the hcrse, who kicked the pig,, 
Who raised a dreadful row. 

The pig broke out and found his way 

"Down to the garden bed, 
And followed on his martial heels 

The horse with frantic tread. 

They visited the rows of beets, 

The hills of early corn, 
The hot-beds and the lettuce-beds, 

And left them all forlorn. 

And all that day, and all^next week? 

The farmer did repair; 
His woodshed door is fastened still, 

But Biddy is not there. 

Look for her in the carriage-house^ 

Where, prickly as a thistle, 
That setting hen is sitting yet, 

In one perpetual bristle. 

The farmer and the farmer s will 

At last have had to yield, 
And Biddy sits victorious 

Upon that battle-Ield, 


O fickle goddess Victory! 

To thus desert us men, 
And give the plume of conqueror 
To keeping of a lien ! 

Dear me 1 what are we coming tot 

To thus disgrace our sires ? 
What shall we tell posterity 
If any one inquires ? 



THE best of all the pill-bos crew 
Since ever time began, 
Are the doctors who have most to do 
With the health of a hearty mm** 

And so I count them up again, 

And praise them as I can ; 
There s Dr. Diet, and Dr. Quiet, 

And Dr. Merryman. 

Here s Dr. Diet, he tries my tongue, 
" I know you well," says he ; 

* Your stomach is poor, and your liver is sprang j 

We must make your food agree." 

And Dr. Quiet, he feels my wrist, 
And he gravely shakes his head, 

* Now, now, dear sir, I must insist 

That you go at ten to bed." 



But Dr. Merryman for me, 

Of all the pill-box crew ! 
For lie smiles and says, as he fobs Ms fe, 

" Laugh on, whatever you do I" 

So now I eat what I ought to eat, 

And at ten I go to bed, 
And I laugh in the face of cold or neat; 

For thus have the doctors said ! 

And so I count them up again, 

And praise them as I can ; 
There s Dr. Diet, and Dr. Quiet, 

And Dr. Merryman. 



rOU cannot, I venture to say, you cannot conquet 
America. Your armies in the last war eifected 
everything that could be effected, and what was it? 
What is your present situation ? We do not know the 
worst, but we know that in seven campaigns we have 
done nothing and suffered much. 

As to conquest, therefore, I repeat it, that is impos 
sible. You may swell every effort and every expense 
still more extravagantly; pile and accumulate every 
assistance you can buy or borrow; traffic and barter 
with every little pitiful German prince that sells and 
sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign country : 
your efforts are forever impotent and vain. 

They are doubly impotent and vain from this mep- 


cenary aid on which you rel j ; for it irritates, to an in 
curable resentment, the minds of your enemies to over 
run them with the sordid sons of rapine and of plunder, 
devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of 
hireling cruelty. 

If J. were an American, as I am an Englishman, while 
a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never 
would lay down my arms never ! never ! never ! 



T AM fresh irom the conflict I m drunk with the blood 
-L Of the white men, who chased me o er prairie and 


Till I trapped them at last, and exultingly swore 
That my fearless red warriors should revel in gore! 
I have well kept my oath, O Manitou, the Just! 
Three hundred white hirelings are low in the dust. 
The unequal conflict was bloody and brief, 
And they weep for their men and their golden-haired 


I hate the palefaces! I ll fight to the death 
While the prairies are mine, and a warrior has breath ! 
By the bones of our fathers, whose ruin they wrought, 
When they first trod our land, and for sympathy 


By the souls of our slain, when our villages burned 
By all the black vices our people have learned, 
No season of rest shall my enemies see, 
Till the earth drinks my blood, or my people are free 




DO you know what s in my pottet ? 
Such a lot o treasures In it 1 
Listen, now, while I bedin it ; 
Such a lot o j sings it hold, 
And all there is you sail be told - 
Everysin dat s in my pottet, 
And when, and where, and how I dot it. 

First of all, here s in my pottet 
A beauty shell; I picked it up ; 
And here s the handle of a cup 
That somebody has broke at tea ; 
The shell s a hole in it, you see; 
Nobody knows that I have dot it, 
I keep it safe here in my pottet. 

And here s my ball, too, in my pottet, 
And here s my pennies, one, two, three, 
That Aunt Mary gave to me; 
To-morrow day I ll buy a spade, 
When I m out walking with the maid. 
I can t put dat here in my pottet, 
But I can use it when I ve dot it, 

Here s some more sin s in my pottet ; 
Here s my lead, and here s my string, 
And once I had an iron ring, 
But through a hole it lost one day; 
And here is what I always say 
A hole s the worst sin in a pottet 
Have it mended when you ve dot it. 



workshops open wide their doors 
JL At six o clock P. M., 
And workmen issue forth by scores 

At six o clock P. M. 
Of all the minutes in array, 
Or hours that go to make the day, 
There s none so welcome, so they say, 

As six o clock P. M. 

How many children show delight 

At six o clock P. M., 
How many homes are rendered bright 

At six o clock P. M. 
How many little happy feet 
Go out into the busy street, 
With joyous bounds papa to meet, 

At six o clock P. M. 

Thousands of tables draped in white 

At six o clock P. M., 
The gathered families invite 

At six o clock p. M. 
And as they eat the frugal fare, 
They quite forget their toil and care, 
And drop their heavy burdens there, 

At six o clock p. M. 

Then blow, ye shrieking whistles, blow! 

At six o clock P. M., 
Ring out, releasing bells, ring out 1 
And bid the welkin take the shout. 
And echo it all round about, 

"*Tis mx. o clock p. M." 



A WEEEY funny feller is de ole plantation mule ; 

XjL An nobodyll play wid him unless he is a fool. 
De bestest ting to do w en you meditates about him, 
Is to kinder sorter calkerlate you ll get along widout him 

Wen you try to proach dat mule from de front endwis^ 
He look as meek as Moses, but his looks is full ob lies ; 
He doesn t move a muscle, he doesn t even wink; 
An r you say his dispersition s better n people tink. 

He stan so still you s pose he is a monument of grace; 
An* you almos see a nevolent expression, on his face; 
But dat nevolent expression is de mask dat s allers worn ; 
For ole Satan is behin it jest as sure as you is born. 

Den you cosset him a little, an you pat his other end, 
An you has a reverlation dat he aint so much your 

friend ; 
You has made a big mistake; but before de heart 

You is histed werry sudden to de odder side de fence. 

l, you feel like you d been standin on de locomotive 


An de engine come an* hit you in de middle ob de back; 
You don know wat has happened, you can scarcely 

cotch your breff; 
But you tink youVe made de quaintance ob a werry 

vilent deft 

Now a sin in de soul is percisely like de mule ; 
An nobody ll play wid it, unless he is a fool. 
It looks so mitey innercent; but honey, dear, beware I 
Far although de kick is hidden, de kick is allers there. 



fTlHE light shone dim on the headland, 
JL For the storm was raging high ; 
I shaded my eyes from the inner glare, 

And gazed on the west, gray sky. 
It was dark and lowering ; on the sea 

The waves were booming loud, 
And the snow and the piercing winter sleet 

Wove over all a shroud. 

**Oo<3 pity the men on the sea to-night f* 

I said to my little ones, 
And we shuddered as we heard afar 

The sound of minute.-guns. 
My good man came in, in his fishing coat 

(He was wet and cold that night), 
And he said, " There ll lots of ships go down 

On the headland rocks to-night. 5 

" Let the lamp burn all night, mother/* 

Cried little Mary then ; 
Tis but a little light, but still 

It might save drowning men/* 
Oh! nonsense I" cried her father (he 

Was tired and cross that night), 
** The headland lighthouse is enough/* 

And he put out the light. 

That night, on the rocks below us, 

A noble ship went down, 
But one was saved from the ghastly wr*dk 

The rest were left to drown. 


. * We steered by a little light," lie said, 
"Till we saw it sink from view; 

If they d only a left that light all night 
My mates might have been here, too F" 

Then little Mary sobbed aloud ; 

Her father blushed for shame ; 
" Twas our light that you saw/ he said, 

"And I m the one to blame/ 
Twas a little light how small a thing ! 

And trifling was its cost, 
Yet for want of it a ship went down, 

And a hundred souls were lost. 


VHAT does little birdie say 
In her nest at peep of day? 
Let me fly, says little birdie, 
Mother, let me fly away. 
Birdie, rest a little longer, 
Till the little wings are stronger. 
So it rests a little longer, 
Then it flies away. 

What does little baby say 
In her bed at peep of day? 
Baby says, like little birdie, 
Let me rise and fly away. 
Baby, sleep a little longer, 
Till the little wings are stronger* 
If she sleeps a little longer, 
Baby too shall fly away. 




IO ! they come, they come ! garlands for every shrine I 
Strike lyres to greet them home ! bring roses, pour 

ye wine ! 
Swell, swell the Dorian lute through the blue, triumph^ 

ant sky ! 

Let the cittern s tone salute the sons of victory. 
With the offering of bright blood they have ransomed 

hearth and tomb, 
Vineyard, and field, and flood. lo! they come, the} 


Sing it where olives wave, and by the glittering sea, 
And o er each hero s grave, sing, sing, the land is free! 
Mark ye the flashing oars, and the spears that light the 

How the festal sunshine pours where the lords of battle 

sweep ! 
Each hath brought back his shield; maid, greet thy 

lover home ! 
Mother, from that proud field, lo 1 thy son is come ! 

Who murmured of the dead? Hush, boding voice I 

We know 

That many a shining head lies in its glory low. 
Breathe not those names to-day 1 They shall have their 

praise ere long, 

With a power all hearts to sway, in ever-burning song. 
But now shed flowers, pour wine, to hail the conquerors 

Bring wreaths for every shrine. lo ! they come, they 




THE flag of the Union what precious associations 
cluster around it I Not only have our fathers set up 
this banner in the name of God over the well-won battle 
fields of the Revolution, and over the cities and towns 
which they rescued from despotic rule ; but think where 
their descendants haye carried it and raised it in con 
quest or protection ! 

Through what clouds of dust and smoke has it passed 
what storms of shot and shell what scenes of fire and 
blood! Not only at Saratoga, at Monmouth, and at 
Yorktown, but at Lundy s Lane and New Orleans, at 
Buena Vista and Chapultepec. 

It is the same glorious old flag which, inscribed with 
the dying words of Lawrence, " Don t give up the ship," 
was hoisted on Lake Erie by Commodore Perry, just on 
the eve of his great naval victory, the same old flag 
which our great chieftain bore in triumph to the proud 
city of the Aztecs, and planted upon the heights of her 
national palaces. 

Brave hands raised it above the eternal regions of ice 
in the Arctic seas, and have set it up on the summits of 
the lofty mountains of the distant West. Where has it 
not gone, the pride of its friends and the terror of its 
foes? What countries and seas has it not visited ? Where 
has not the American citizen been able to stand beneath 
its guardian folds and defy the world ? 

With what joy and exultation have seamen and tour 
ists gazed upon its stars and stripes, read in it the history 
of their nation s glory, received from it the full sense of 
security, and drawn from it the inspiration of patriotism I 
How many have lived for it, and how many have died 


for It! How many heroes have its folds eoYered m 

And wherever that flag has gone it has been a herald 
of a better day it has been the pledge of freedom, of 
justice, of order, of civilization, and of Christianity. 
Tyrants only have hated it. All who sigh for the tri 
umph of righteousness and truth salute and love it. 



T)RAY, have you seen our Tommy? 
J- He s the cutest little fellow, 
"With cheeks as round as apples, 

And hair the softest yellow. 
You see, twas quite a while ago, 

An hour or two, perhaps, 
When grandma sent him off to buy 

A pound of ginger-snaps. 

We have traced him to the baker s, 

And part way back again ; 
We found a little paper sack 

Lying empty in the lane. 
But Tommy and the ginger-snaps 

Are missing totally ; 
I hope they both will reappear 

In time enough for tea. 

We have climbed up to the garret, 
And scoured the cellar through; 

We have ransacked every closet, 
And the barn and orchard too j 


We have bunted through tlie kitchen, 
And the pantry ? Oh ! of course, > 

We have screamed and shouted " Tommy* 
Until we re fairly hoarse. 

Poor mamma goes distracted, 

And pretty Auntie May 
Is sure the darling cherub 

Has somehow lost his way. 
Well, well, I ll give another look 

Into the nursery ; 
I hardly think the little rogue 

Can hide away from me. 

Ah ! here s the laundry basket, 

Within I ll take a peep. 
Why what is this curled up so tight I 

Tis Tommy, fast asleep. 
O mamma, auntie, grandma ! 

Come and see the fun. 
Tommy, where s the ginger-snaps? 

"Eaten! every onel" 

" Bless my heart I" laughs auntie ; 

" Dear, dear, I shall collapse; 
Where could he stow them all away ? 

A pound of ginger-snaps !" 

But mamma falls to kissing, 

Forgetting fright and toil, 
While grandma bustles out to fetch 

A dose of castor oil. 





HAEEBELL liimg Its willful head : 

" I am tired, so tired ! I wish I was dead." 

Site "hung her head in the mossy dell : 
" If all were over, then all were well." 

The wind he heard, and was pitiful ; 
He waved her about to make her cool. 

" Wind, you are rough," said the dainty "bell ; 
" Leave me alone I am not well." 

And the wind, at the voice of the drooping dame, 
Sank in his heart, and ceased for shame. 

" I am hot, so hot !" she sighed and said ; 
" I am withering up ; I wish I was dead." 

Then the sun, he pitied her pitiful case, 
And drew a thick veil over his face. 

" Cloud, go away, and don t be rude ; 
I am not I don t see why you should." 

The cloud withdrew, and the harebell cried, 
" I am faint, so faint I and no water beside I" 

And the dew came down its million-fold path ; 
But she murmured, " I did not want a bath." 

A boy came by in the morning gray ; 

He plucked the harebell, and threw it away. 

The harebell shivered, and cried, " Ohl oh! 
I am faint, so faint I Come, dear wind, blow." 


The wind blew softly, and did not speak. 
She thanked him kindly, but grew more weak. 

** Sun, dear sun, I am cold," she said. 
He rose ; but lower she drooped her head. 

* O rain ! I am withering ; all the blue 
Is fading out of me ; come, please do." 

The rain came down as fast as it could, 
But for all its will, it did her no good. 

She shuddered and shriveled, and moaning- said; 
* Thank you all kindly ;" and then she was dead. 

Let us hope, let us hope, when she conies next year 4 
She ll be simple and sweet. But I fear, I fear. 



ONLY a baby small, dropped from the skies ; 
Only a laughing face, two sunny eyes ; 
Only two cherry lips, one chubby nose ; 
Only two little hands, ten little toes; 
Only a golden head, curly and soft ; 
Only a tongue that wags loudly and oft ; 
Only a little brain, uuvexed by thought ; 
Only a little heart, troubled by naught ; 
Only a tender flower, sent us to rear ; 
Only a life to love while we are here. 




ROMANS, countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for 
my cause, and be silent that yo i may hear. Be- 
Eeve me for mine honor ; and have respect to mine honoi 
that you may believe. Censure me In your wisdom, and 
awake your senses that you may the better judge. 

If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend oi 
Caesar s, to him I say that Brutus love to Caesar was 
not less than his. If, then, that friend demand why 
Brutus rose against Csesar, this is my answer: Not that 
I loved Csesar less, but that I loved Borne more. Had 
you rather Csesar were living, and die all slaves, than 
that Csesar were dead, to live all freemen ? 

As Csesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortu 
nate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honor him ; 
but as he was ambitious, I slew him ! There are tears 
for his love ; joy for his fortune ; honor for his valor / 
and death for his ambition 1 





[A performance for three very little girls. They should be dressed it 
White, cream color, or pale pink each, carrying an open parasol directij 
over the head, to imitate a mushroom, top. The parasols should be cov 
ered with the same material as that of which the dresses are made.] 


little toad-stools, 
J- Don t you see? 
Jes* as tunnin* as 
We can be. 


Where did we come from ? 

We don t know, 
Guess in the same place 

Violets grow. 


What are we dood for? 

Jes* to keep 
Rain from the mosses 

When they sleep. 


What else dood for? 

Lena* me see ! 
Fool boys, sometimes, 

Tween you an me. 


How old are we? 

Don t know, quite 
Reckon we came in 

A shower last night. 


Where are we goin to. 

Oh! now, say! 
Wif all de flowers 

In mamma s bouquet 



fThis can "be made a most laughable affair. Five boys ranging from 
fourteen w sixteen years of age should be selected-such as can act well 
SdwIS can make the by-plly full of amusing incident* There musl 
be an air of reality imparted to the whole, or the performers W iD L fell i n 
producing the belt effect. The tallest boy may represent the Pmtao* 
End he sfiould speak in a full, deep tone, and bear himself in a verj 
ixjmpoiis manner.] 

Professor (entering and followed ly four or five boys).- 
Now, young gentlemen, we have met to learn the won* 
derful art of elocution. Tills word is derived from two 
"Latin words, e, out of, and loquor, loqui, locutus, to speak, 
so the word means to speak out. Half the world speak 
own their throats that is not elocution. I differ from 
every other teacher in this. I do everything called for 
iu the piece. If a cough is mentioned, why, I stop and 
cough ; if a horse is spoken of, then I whinny like a 
horse. This I call real elocution. You must observe 
two directions which I shall h give you: First, let your 
voices well out ; next, you must observe and copy me 
$>nd my gestures. Can you remember these? 

No. 1. Yes, sir ; I think we can remember them ; but 
how much shall we let our voices out. I am always 
afraid I shall bust something if I let my voice out too 

p t Well, sir, let me hear you speak, and then I can 
judge. Bo you know, " On linden when the sun wa& 

No. 1. Yes | I know that. 

P. Well, you may speak it. 

No. 1 (.puts himself in a position, and in a very lo?*d 
mid high voice recites i) 

** On Linden, when the sun was low, 
AH bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 
And <?<urk as winter was the flow 
Of Iser rolling 



JP. (clapping "his hands to his ears). Hold 1 
enough. Do you all speak as loud as that? 

No. 4. Just like that, sir. 

aP. Well, then, I ll withdraw the rule requiring you to 
speak so loud as you can, and beg you instead to speak 
moderately moderately, gentlemen. But you must be 
sure to move and act as you see me do. Our first selec 
tion will be from Shakespeare. I told you all to provide 
yourselves with mantles, since the ancient Romans, 
whom we are to personate, wore them. Under the pres 
ent circumstances, I stated that your sisters* waterproof 
cloaks would answer every purpose. 

No. 2. I haven t any sister, Professor, so I got his sis 
ter (pointing) to lend me her waterproof. Will that do 
just as well? 

P. Certainly. Now throw them over your left arms. 

{In drawing them No. 3 accidentally hits No. 4, who, 
rubbing his arm, says :) 

No. 4. What are you about, hitting around in that 
way ? You ve got to be more careful. 

(No. 1 also accidentally steps on the toes of No. 2, who 
limps around and makes great ado.) 

No. 2. Oh! oh! my corns. What did you step o n 
my corns for? 

P. Gentlemen, you must be more careful. 

Nos. 2 and 4. Why, we were just as careful as we 
could be. It s those fellows who aint careful. 

P. Now, then, gentlemen, in line, if you please, and 
follow my directions. But first, I ll recite, as appro 
priate to the occasion, Shakespeare s "Advice to tha 

"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounce it to 
tripping on. the tongue; but if you mouth it, aa 


many of our players do, I had as lief the town crier 
spake my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with 
your hand, thus, but use all gently." I repeat, gentle 
men, be sure to imitate me : it is thus you will learn. 
Attention all : " If you have tears " (throwing out right 
hand toward them*). 

Class. " If you have tears" (also throwing out their 
right hands with great animation). 

P. " Prepare to shed them now," (puts hands to eyes 
and whines and cries), 

0. " Prepare to shed them now" (also put hands, etc. 
In doing this, No. 1 hits No. 2 with his sword, and he 
talk out : 

No. 2. Oh ! why are you always hitting me ? I m half 
inclined to think you did it on purpose. I aint going 
to stand it any longer, unless I have the chance to do 
some hitting back. 

P. Silence, gentlemen. You must be willing to suffer 
something in the cause of education. " You all do know 
this mantle" (throwing out left arm and pointing with 
the right). 

0. " You all do know this mantle " (same gestures; the 
various members dodging about as the swords are drawn), 

P. " I remember the first time ever Caesar put it on." 

C. " I remember the first time ever Csesar put it on." 

P. " Look" (throwing out right hand). 

C. " Look" (repeat gesture). 

P. " In this place" (pointing^). 

C. " In this place" (pointing). 

P. " Ran Cassius dagger through." 

C. " Ran Cassius dagger through," 

P. "See what a rent the envious Casca made here" 



gee what a rent the envious Casea made here w 

p f Thro this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed" 

Q "Thro this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed" 


P. "And as he plucked his cursed steel away" - 
(drawing sword lacF). 

Q m "And as he plucked his cursed steel away " (draw 
ing swords back, and in so doing No. 1 hits No. 2, which 
causes Mm to double up and cry out in a whining way ). 

No. 2. There you go again, always hitting some one, 
you are. And I m not going to stand your nonsense 
any longer. 

P.-^-Silence there. 

C. Silence there. (No. 2 calls out with the rest, though 
pretending to be in pain. ) 

P. (raising sword). Silence, I say ! 

G. (raising sword). Silence, I say ! 

P, Stop ! stop ! That is not found in the divine bard. 
Make ready, all. All ready ? 

0. Eeady. 

P. " Then burst his mighty heart " (lefthand on hearty 
right arm over the eyes, pretending to weep ). 

0. "Then burst his mighty heart" (imitating ges 
tures ). 

P. " And in his mantle muffling up his face" (folds 
vloak around his head). 

C. "And in his mantle muffling up his face " (fold 
cloaks, etc.) 

P. "Great Caesar " (in a loud voice). 

C. "Great Csesar" (very loud). 

p^ " ]?ell (going suddenly on his knee*)* 


C. ** Fell " (going down suddenly on their Jcnees, and 
remain in this position about a minute). 

Pi (rising^). Now, gentlemen, you have liad your 
first lesson in real elocution, where everything is done 
that is spoken about in the piece itself. This one was 
intended to show you how an audience can be made to 
weep. The nest will be to show you how it can be made 
to laugh. (AM bow.) 


CHASACTEBS. Five girls, from ten to twelve years of age: MAUD, an 
orphan, and Yery poorly clad; KATIE, ROSELLA, EBTTH, and BELLE, 
daughters of wealthy parents. 

SCENE. The Jive girls standing near ea&h other, MAUB a 
little apart from the rest* 

Rosetta. O girls, my father has bought a beautiful 
sail-boat, and we expect to have a sail to-night upon the 
lake. Father gave me leave to invite a few of my 
friends to enjoy the sail with us. Will you go? 

Katie, Edith, and Belle, together. Oh I yes, yes, yes! 
Won t it be grand? 

Katie. Kosella, you are the best girl that ever was. 
[Throws an arm around her.~] 

Rosdla. WiU you not go with us, Maud? 

Maud (glancing at her shabby dress and worn-out shoes ). 
~I would like to go, but fear I cannot. [Turns to leaved] 

Kosella, Come if you can, Maud. [Exit MAXJD. 

Edith. I cannot imagine why you are so anxious to 
have that ragged Maud Lindsey to be one of your sailing 


Belle. NOT L 

Katie. Nor I. 

Edith. I don t believe site has anytMng fit to wear, 
Did you not see lier glance at her dress when she replied 
to your question? 

Rgsella. No ; I did not notice it. 

Katie. How strange ! I noticed it ; didn t you, Belle ? 

Belle. Yes, and I could not help pitying her, for I 
know she wanted to go so much. 

Edith. I can t believe it our duty to invite such a 
ragged thing everywhere. I think it bad enough to be 
obliged to associate with her at school. 

Rosella. O Edith I you surely cannot blame Maud for 
having no better clothing 1 

Edith. I had no thought of blaming her ; I only said 
I did not care to associate with her. 

Katie. I wonder if she has no better clothes. 

Belle. She had a better dress last summer. 

Katie. But we are talking about this summer. 
[MlUD appears on the stage and seems to be searching for 
something, but, not finding it, soon leaves."] 

Edith. I wonder what she was looking after. 

Belle. She looked as if she had cried her eyes most 

Katie. That s nothing new ; her eyes always look so. 

Mosella. I think we should all weep as much as Maud, 
if in her place. Mrs. Mason knows all about Maud and 
her parents, and says, if she was able, she would take her 
and do by her as by a child of her own. 

Edith. Did Mrs. Mason ever tell you about her ? 

JRosella. Yes, she told me the other day, 

Belle. Tell us about her, Kosella. 

Katie. Yes, do. 


Rosetta* I will, with pleasure. Maud s parents were 
?ery wealthy. They tad two children besides Maud, 
a boy and a girl. One day her father came in looking 
very grave; he had failed. A few mornings after this, 
he awoke very ill. A physician was called, and his dis 
ease pronounced diphtheria. In a short time they were 
aH ill with the same disease, and only Maud recovered. 
[A. silence of some minutest] 

Katie. I have a dress at home which I think would 
fit Maud, and it is quite pretty. 

Edith. I have some boots* They doa t come tip quite 
as high around the ankle as I like to have them | but 
they are most new, and will look much better than her 
old ones. 

Belle* I will ask my mother to buy her a new hat ; 
and I know she will, and some other things also. 

Rosella. I will also give her some articles of clothing, 
but what she needs most is our love. Shall we not give 
it to her. 

AIL Yes, yes, she shall have our love. 

[Curtain folk. 


Tune My Native Land. 

Each girl should be appareled in white, and one the largest so cos 
tumed as to represent the Goddess of Liberty. Each of the others should 
wear upon the head a band of pasteboard, bearing in gilt or silver letters 
the name of the State she represents, and carrying in the hand a Email 
shield, which can also be made of pasteboard. Alternate stripes of white 
and red can be pasted lengthwise upon the shield "within one-third of the 
distance from the top. On the one-third space, which must, of course, be 
blue, should be placed thirteen small white stars. On the reverse side 
may be fastened a strip of tape to enable the child to hold the shield 
^taxing the performaace, 


ABBJJTGEKENT OF TABLEAU. The Goddess maybe placed on one siat 

of the group, and arranged in such way as to look with pride on the 
original thirteen, and. the smallest child, which should represent Rhooi 
island, might be kneeling at her feet, and holding in her hand a flag. 

The performance can either be rendered as solo or as chorus, as maer 
^e best suited to the occasion. 

DID you ever tear of Columbus, 
Who came out to the West 
Of all the mariners on earth 
The bravest and the best? 

He mann d nis boats, and picked his crew, 

With spirits bold and brave, 
Who, like himself, knew naught of fear, 

And crossed the ocean wave. 

We thirteen sisters were the first 

To form into a band, 
And represent the thirteen States 

First chartered in this land* 

God bless the dauntless few who 

The broad and rolling sea, 
To give to us a happy tome 

So wide, and rich, and fiwau 


Tiny TotV Speaker 

By Lizzie J. Rook & MTS. E. J, H. 

For the Wee Ones 

.The need of a book of short, bright pieces for the little one? w 
peak is apparent to every one who has had anything to do with 
getting up entertainments. This book contains over 150 pieces 
ranging from four lines to a page In length, all fresh and specially 
suited to the youngest children. The subjects are such i4 please 
the little folks, and are wrought into easy prose and verse. 

Paper binding, 15 cents j boards s 25 cents, 

CMldV Own Speaker 

By E. C. r L. J. Rook 
For Children of Six Years 

This collection comprises over 100 selections consisting of Reel 
rations, Motion Songs, Concert Pieces, Dialogues, and Tableaux, 
Most of them have been written specially for this book and are 
^uite unique and novel in their arrangement. The subjects are 
such as delight the infantile mind, and the language, while 
thoroughly childlike, is not childish. Only such pieces have 
been used as contain some thought worthy of being remembered. 

Papei binding, 15 cents ; boards, 25 cents. 

Little PeopIeV Speaker 

By Mrjv J. W. Shoemaker 

For Children of Nine Years 

The book comprises 100 pages of choice pieces in prose and 
verse adapted to childhood. It contains a number of bright aad 
attractive Recitations, Motion Songs, Concert Recitations, Holiday 
Exercises, and stirring Temperance and Patriotic Pieces. All the 
selections are new, a number of them bei ng specially written fe> 
this work, and others appearing for the first time in book form. 

Paper binding, 15 cents; boards, 25 c&ots. 

583 Arch Street, Philadelphia , 

-SooJfas for Young 

Yotmg People**/ 1 Speaker 

By E. C. & L. J. Rook 

For Children of T\*-*lve Year* 

Almost every prominent author has written some good things 
for young people. The choicest bits jn prose and verse from Long 
fellow, Holmes, DicKens, T Buchanan Bead, Susan Coolidge, Ella 
Wheeler Wilcox, and other noted writers nave been given a place 
in this volume. It would be difficult to find another collection of 
100 pages so replete with short, bright, che-eiry recitation?, so ap 
propriate to young persons, and suited to all occasions 

Paper binding, 15 cents , boards, 25 cents, 

Young Folks" Recitations 

By Mrs. J, W. Shoem^ke* 
For Young People ot Fifteen Y fears 

The book i* made op of short recitations in prose and poet? 9 
arefully selected from the productions of the best writers foryouijg 
people. While innocent humor and quaint philosophy occupy a 
prominent place, the general tone of the book is sueh as to 
fche youthful mind with a love of country and of truth, and to cu| 
feivate greater purity of heart and nobility of character The coit 
eluding pages contain a few short dialogues and tableaux 
Paper binding. 15 cents i boards, 25 cent* 

Little People s Bl&dogne^ 

By Clara, J. Denton 

For Children of Ten Years 

The dialogues were prepared especially for this boofe and possess 
a. freshness seldom found in publications of this class. Many cf 
them are characterized by a novelty and originality that place 
them far above the average production of this kind. The staging 
and costuming are of the simplest character and are so fully de 
scribed as to make the task of preparation quite easy, even for 
4he novice. Provision has been made for all occasions commemo 
fating special days and seasons, 

Baper binding, 25 cents; boards, 40 cents 

Q?S Arch Street- Philadelphia* 

j&mtertmimmcnt MOOJKS to* 

Young Folks* DiaJ 

By Chajrlej* C. Shoemaker 

For Young People of Fifteen Years 

Dialogues rendered by young people are always enjoyable, being 
relished by the parents and friends as well as by the youthful 
performers themselves. This book of dialogues, wholesome in tone, 
yet sparkling with wit and full of unexpected and novel situations, 
supplies just the material needed. Liberal provision has been 
made for anniversary occasions, and for church, school, and home 
entertainments. All the matter has been written especially foi 
this work. 
Paper binding, 25 cents; boards, 40 cents. 

Young Folks* Entertainments 

By E. C. & L. J. Rook 

For Children from Five to Fifteen Years 

The constant demand is for something new and original foi 
Sihool and Home Entertainments. The authors, from a large 
es perience, have prepared a book that exactly meets this want. 
$ ovelty and variety mark every page. Dialogues, Tableaux, 
Motion Songs, Brills, Shadows, Charades in Pantomime, and 
M otion Recitations in Concert represent some of the divisions of 
tlie book. All are adapted to the common school stage and 
require but little costume and few properties. Everything ia 
o -iginal and written especially for this work. 
Paper binding, 25 cents; boards, 40 cents. 

Easy Entertainments for 
Young People 

The book consists of bright, new, original plays sparkling with 
wit and overflowing with humor, and introducing many striking 
and beautiful scenes. The Carnival of Sports, The Court of the 
Year, Courting of Mother Goose, Vice Versa, The Sniggles Family, 
My Country, and Dr. Cure- All are the titles of the seven interest 
ing entertainments of which this book is composed. The stage 
settings are simple and but little in the way of scenery, proper* 
fcies, or costumes is required. 

Paper binding, 25 cents ; boards, 40 cents. 

.493 4rch Street, Philadelphia 

Drills and M&rches 

By E, C. & L* | Rook 

Ho form of entertamrnent has intrenched itself more strongly m 
popular favor than Drills and Marches. The authors, with a long 
and successful experience in arranging public entertainments, come 
witli special iitness to their task of writing a book of new and 
attractive exercises. The following titles of drills may prove sug* 
gestive: The Broom, Fan, Tambourine, Umbrella, Hoop, Waiter, 
Doll, Little Patriots, etc. Full explanations accompany eacfe 
drill, so that even in the hands of an inexperienced teachei tla* 
entertainment will prove a success. 

Faper binding, 25 cents; boards, 40 cents 

IdeaJ Drills 

By Marguerite W Morton 

This book contains a collection of entirely new and original 
drills, into which are introduced many unique and effective 
features. The fullest descriptions are given for the successful pro 
duction of the drills and to this end nearly 100 diagrams have 
i^en inserted showing the different movements. Everything is 
made so clear that anyone can use the drills without the slightest 
difficulty Among the more popular and pleasing drills are i Th 
Brownie, Taper, Maypole, Bainbow, Dumb-bell, Butterfly, Sword 
Slower. Ring, Scarf, Flag, and Swing Song and Drill 

Faper binding, SO cents ; cloth, 50 cents 

923 Arch Street, Philadelphia 

Humorous Speakers & Dialogues 


Good Humor 

By Henry FMi Wood 
For Reading and Recitation 

There is no Letter way of contributing to the amusement and 
enjoyment of a public audience or of the social circle than by 
telling a good anecdote or rendering some humorous recitation 
This volume will furnish an abundant supply of both. The reci 
tation, " Casey at the Bat," made famous by the celebrated come 
dian, DeWolf Hopper, is among the pieces. This selection alone 
trill be considered by. many as worth the cost of the book* 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Choice Humor 

By Charlej- C. Shoemaker 

For Reading and Recitation 

To prepare a book of humor that shall be free from anything 
that is coarse or vulgar on the one hand, ana avoid what is flat and 
insipid on the other, is the difficult task which the compiler set for 
himself, and which he has successfully accomplished. The book 
has been prepared with the utmost care, and it will be found as 
interesting and attractive for private reading as it is valuable foi 
public entertainment. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Choice OiaJeet 

By Charier C. ShoemaJter 

For Reading and Recitation 

This book will be found to contain a rare and valuable collec 
tion of Irish, German, Scotch, French, Negro, and other dialects^ 
and to represent every phase of sentiment from the keenest humor 
or the tenderest pathos to that which is strongly dramatic. It 
affords to the amateur reader and the professional elocutionist tht 
largest scope for his varied abilities, and is entirely free from aay 
tiling that would offend the most refined taste. 

Paoer binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents 


JOttttlOf sa* 

Cfiolce Dialogues 

By Mr^ J. W, Shoemaker 
For School and Social Entertainment 

Entirely new and original. The topics have been arranged on a 
comprehensive plan, with reference to securing the greatest possi 
ble variety, and the matter has been specially prepared by a corps 
of able - writers, their aim being to secure loftiness of conception. 
purity of tone, and adaptability to the needs of amateurs. It is an 
ail ronnd dialogue book, being suited to children and adults, and 
to Sunday-schools and day-schools. It is conceded to be one of the 
l>est dialogue books in print. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Humorous Dialogues and Dramas 

By Charlej* C. Shoemaker 

If there is anything more enjoyable than a humorous reading ot 
recitation it is a keen, pointed, humorous dialogue. The compiler, 
with the largest resources and widest experience in literature for 
entertainment purposes, has produced one of the rarest, brightest, 
jolliest books of mirth-provoking dialogues ever published. Much 
of the matter was prepared especially for this work. The dialogues 
are adapted to old and young of both sexes, and while often keenly 
witty, are wholly free from coarseness and vulgarity. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Classic Dialogues arid Dramas 

By Mr./*. J. W. Shoemaker 

This unique work will prove not only interesting and profitable 
for purposes of public and social entertainment, but also instruct 
ive and valuable*for private reading and study. The book ^m 
prises popular scenes judiciously selected from the plays of Shanes 
peare, Sheridan, Bulwer, Schiller, and other dramatists, and each 
dialogue is so arranged as to be complete in itself. Many of the 
exercises may be given as readings or recitals, and will 
acceptable to audiences of the highest culture and refinement 

ftfeper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents, 


Sterling Dialogues * 

By William M. Clark 

The dialogues comprising: this volume liaye been chosen from a 
large store of material. The contributions are from the pens of 
the most gifted writers iti this field of literatnre, and the topics are 
so varied and comprehensive that they are readily adapted to the 
needs of Schools, Academies, and Literary Societies. They "are 
especially suited for Social Gatherings and Home Amusement, aa 
the staging required is simple and easily obtained. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Model Dialogues 

By William M. Clark 

The dialogues comprising this collection have been contributed 
by over thirty of America s best writers in this field of literature. 
They represent every variety of sentiment and emotion, from the 
extremely humorous to the pathetic. Every dialogue is full of life 
and action ; the subjects are well chosen, and are so varied as to 
suit all grades of performers. The book is especially adapted for 
School Exhibitions, Literary Societies, and Sunday-school and 
Social Gatherings. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Standard Dialogues 

By Rev* Alexander Cl&jk, A. M. 

The author s name is a guaranty of the excellence of this book. 
His long experience as a lecturer before Teachers Institutes, and 
his close study of the teachers 1 needs, his lofty ideals of education 
and of life, his refinement of taste, diversity of attainment, and 
versatility of expression, all combine to qualify him in an eminent 
degree for the preparation of such a volume. For both teachei 
and entertainer this book has special points ef merit, as the di 
logues are interesting as well as instructive. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

423 Arch Street* Philadelphia 

Sclioolday Dialogues 

By Rev. Alexander Clark, A M, 

This book of dialogues, prepared for use in SchooJ Enter* 
feinments, furnishes great diversity of sentiment and diction. 
Although for the most part composed of serious or pathetic subject- 
matter, there will be found many humorous dialogues and muofe 
good material for the little folks, as well as for the older onea. 
The staging and costuming are of the simplest character, alad^re 
so fully described as to make the task of preparation quite 
BFen for the novice. 
Paper binding, 30 cents} cloth, 50 cents, 

Popular Dialogues 

By Phlnea^s Garrett 

The author s large experience in the Entertainment and 
ment field has qualified him for the preparation of a book of 
unusual merit. No work of this kind more fully meets the popu* 
for demand for interesting and refined entertainment. In this 
collection will be found dialogues to suit every occasion, either for 
public entertainment- or for a social evening at home. Humor and 
pathos are pleasantly blended, and provision is made for the 
wants of the young and the old, the grave and the gay, the expe 
rienced and the inexperienced. 

Paper binding, 30 cents ; cloth, 50 cents. 

Excelsior Dialogues 

By Phine^s Garrett 

This book: is composed of original dialogues and colloquies 
designed for students in Schools ard Academies, and prepared 
expressly for this work by a corps of professional teaehers and 
writers. Comedy and tragedy are provided in due proportion, 
and the moral tone of the work is of the highest order. Teachers 
will here find just the material for which they have been search 
ing, something with plot enough to hold the attention and tha* 
will command the best efforts of the older pupils. 

Paper binding, 30 cents; cloth, 50 cents, 

#23 Arch Street,. Philadelphia